Darkness and Light
by beccalyse
Summary: This is a relatively faithful adaptation of Twilight, through my Bella's eyes, but as I would have liked the characters to have been portrayed. I've never written FanFic before, and will need some patience. Rated M for language and eventual lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

I hate airplanes. I hate the too-small seats and the forced proximity with strange people. I hate the double-thick plastic that separates me from the fluffy clouds and clean air outside. I hate the flimsy headphones and the in flight movies that I can never quite see. I hate the recycled, stale air, and the way every exhale comes back to me with every intake of breath. I hate the tray tables, cluttered the sticky, hollow rings of previous drinks, the deeper stains of previous spills, haunted by the people who used them before me. I hate airplanes. And I hate starting over.

This was my fault, my idea. My need to take care of my mother, my insistence on the change. I just wanted her to be happy, to get her smile back. I missed her smile. I knew she did, too. Her husband, my step-father, traveled constantly for work, and it was killing her to be apart from him. But it was a sacrifice she made willingly and without complaint… for me. And now I can make sacrifices, too. She was resistant, unwilling to let me go, but I convinced her. I would live with my father in Washington. I would leave Phoenix and our house with the blue front door at the end of the block. I would leave my room with the pale pink walls, unchanged since we had painted them together when I was a little girl. I would leave the sun and the desert and the hot breeze that would plaster my hair against my neck while my mother and I would take our nightly walk around the neighborhood, a habit leftover from one of her exercise obsessed phases. I would leave, and she would travel with Phil, and they would be happy. And I would start over. I hate starting over.

I sat back in my seat, my legs cramped from sitting too long, and let my head fall back against the cracked vinyl headrest. Exhaling sharply through pursed lips, I let my gaze drift towards the half-open window and thought about what would wait for me when I landed. This was the last leg of the trip, the quick flight to Port Angeles where my father, Charlie, would be waiting, smiling uncomfortably, I was sure. We would land soon, the plane would empty onto the tarmac, and there he would be, shifting his weight. We would load my trunks, mostly filled with knick knacks rather than clothes, as my new home would be much colder than my old one, into his car, and we would begin the hour long drive to the house my parents bought when I was born. The house I hadn't been to in years, because I insisted Charlie spend his vacations with me in warmer, sunnier places. The plane began to descend, the lone flight attendant walking the aisle to check seat belts and tray tables, a bored expression on her face. I leaned down to put my MP3 player away, sighing as I realized I had been too deep in thought to pay attention to the music that was meant to relax me. Straightening, I lifted the window shade, gazing intently at the approaching ground and saying my last goodbye to the sun as we dipped below the dull gray clouds. I bit my lip, feeling a small, tense knot develop in my stomach as we came closer and closer to the ground until, finally, the landing gear met the runway, the plane skidded to a stop, and it was all over. I was here. And it was too late to go back. I hate starting over.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: **I meant to put this into the first chapter, but I just got so damn ahead of myself. ******** There are fundamental issues I had with the series, mostly the portrayal of Bella, and I am attempting to right these issues in my own mind by getting them down on "paper." Frankly, while I found the storylines compelling, I didn't feel the characters were fleshed out enough, and found the lack of profanity and sex beyond frustrating. So I'm going to make Bella stronger and I'm going to give her a bit of a potty mouth. Edward will act like an adult, because that's really what he is. I hate Jacob and the entire Quileute angle, but I'm trying to be faithful to the series, and will portray him with as little bias as possible. Please review. I am terribly, terribly new at this, and am simply trying to get Twilight out of my system.**

**I don't own Twilight or any of the characters. Stephenie Meyer does. And now she's rich.**

**Chapter Two**

After 45 minutes of relatively comfortable silence, Charlie finally opened his mouth again. We had chit-chatted about Arizona and Renee and Phil as we waited for my trunks to be removed from the plane. We had discussed the weather forecast for the next few days as we loaded his police cruiser. We had exchanged the necessary pleasantries about being "excited to be here" as we both got settled in the car. And then small talk had been replaced by silence. Blissful silence. That's the one great thing about Charlie… he doesn't feel the need to fill dead air. But, right now, there was apparently business to attend to.

"So, Bella…" Charlie began, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and tightening his grip on the steering wheel, "we should probably discuss how this is going to work."

I could tell he was uncomfortable. We hadn't lived together since I was a baby and, though he would visit Phoenix occasionally and the two of us would go on our traditional 2 week vacation every year, we really didn't know each other very well. I turned to him so he could tell I was listening and I nodded.

"Well, I know you're older now, and you'll be needing some space. And, you know, I've gotten so used to living by myself for the past 17 years... I just want to make sure you're comfortable. I know your mother likes to… spend lots of time with you and everything… it's just… with my job, I tend to be out of the house a lot…" his voice trailed off and he became visibly more flustered. His job as Chief of Police was not necessarily a stressful one in such a small town, but I was sure it kept him more than busy.

"Ch-… Dad, please, don't worry about it," I rushed. Renee _did _ like to spend lots of quality time with me, but the truth was that I spent just as much time taking care of her as she did of me, and, with someone as high maintenance as Renee, it could get exhausting. A break from such constant attention and worry would actually be pretty refreshing. I missed her already, but was grateful for the bit of independence her absence afforded me. "You know me. I like being by myself. I'll be fine. We'll be fine. Really."

His grip on the steering wheel relaxed a bit at that. He was clearly very happy for me to finally be staying with him, but the period of adjustment would be… uncomfortable. For both of us.

"Alright, Bella. You know that if you need anything, to talk or anything… just know I'm always here for you. I know this is stressful, starting a new school and getting used to such a new place… I'm here. If you need me." This was clearly what he had been trying to say to me, and he nodded once to himself with a slight smile on his lips, as if congratulating himself for getting it all out. Charlie wasn't much of a talker. Neither was I.

"Thanks, Dad. I appreciate that." I turned to look out the window again, thinking father-daughter time was over. We were just entering the town now, passing a small sign bearing the words "Forks, WA: Population 3,221." This was it. My new home. I closed my eyes and let my forehead rest on the glass of the window, sighing quietly to myself. From Phoenix to Forks. The knot in my stomach gave a little twist. My entire life shifted from one place to another in less than a day. How was that even possible?

"So, about your car…" Charlie's more confident voice broke into my reverie. I didn't turn this time, simply grunting for him to continue. "Well, I found you something nice. I think it's nice, anyway."

"How much?" I asked. We had been discussing the possibility of him helping me buy a car once it was decided I was moving up here. Renee had been forced to chauffer me all over Phoenix, and I wasn't eager for Charlie to have to do the same. Especially since his only car was his police cruiser.

"Well, you know, I had been thinking about that. I don't want you to spend your savings, Bella. Especially with you moving into a new town and everything… you should have money to go out and do things with the friends you'll make. So, I, uh… I decided to go ahead and buy it for you. As a welcome home gift." He stole a glance at me out of the corner of his eye, his lips twitching up into a smile beneath his mustache. "I hope that's alright."

Shocked out of my reverie, I sat straight up and turned to face him, my seatbelt cutting into my shoulder from the force of my sudden movement. "Dad… that's… thank you so much. Really. That's amazing. Thank you."

His smile widened as we turned down a street I vaguely remembered, pulling up to a house that I hadn't seen in years. Even with such faint memories, I knew nothing had changed. The house was the same grayish white it had always been, standing two stories with its sash windows framed in blue shutters, one of the last alterations my mother had made to the house before she left with me. It sat small and simple, set back a bit from the street, with its small, one-car driveway separating it from the thick forest the lot disappeared into. There was only one noticeable change… a wide, rust-colored pick-up truck which sat parked at the curb. It looked old and solid and, best of all, very, very me.

"Dad?" I questioned as we pulled into the driveway. I turned around in my seat, craning my neck to catch another glimpse of what I hoped was my new car.

"That's it, Bella. Hope you like it." He looked at me, trying to gauge my reaction. Surprising both of us, I leaped across the seat and gave him a quick hug around the neck. The knot in my stomach eased up a bit. Maybe Forks wouldn't be so bad.

"It's perfect, Dad. So perfect. I love it. Really, I can't thank you enough." I jumped out of his cruiser and jogged over to my gift, tripping over a seam in the concrete along the way.

"I bought it off of Billy, you remember Billy. Anyway, he and his son rebuilt it as sort of a project, and they said it's in solid condition. Shouldn't have any problems with it. I think he said it was a '53 or a '54, but I can't really remember." His voice was bright as he went on, clearly relieved that I was so happy with his purchase. He watched me examine my new car, laughing as I attempted to polish the Chevy emblem on the front grille with the hem of my shirt. The chrome had tarnished decades ago, and I was fighting a losing battle. "Look, Bells, I hate to break this party up, but it looks like the sky's about to open," he said, suddenly glancing at the mean gray clouds overhead with a bemused expression. As if in response, a fat raindrop landed on my shoulder, followed by another. I hate the rain.

"Ummm… yeah. Let's get inside, then." I said, following behind him as we unloaded my trunks from his cruiser and hurried inside. I hadn't brought much, so everything got into the house and upstairs in one trip.

And suddenly I was there. In my tiny, postage stamp-sized room. Charlie helped me dump my luggage in a corner and muttered something about ordering a pizza and getting out of my hair while I got settled. All of my former elation whooshed out of me in one long sigh. This was real now. This was home. The knot in my stomach tightened and churned and expanded. In three strides, I crossed the room and perched tensely on the edge of my bed. What next?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, here's another chapter. It was hard convincing myself to go to bed last night… I really wanted to keep writing. I don't know if anyone's actually reading and/or enjoying what I'm putting out, but I haven't gotten to the juicy bits yet, so I guess I understand the lack of reviews. Still, I'm begging you, review me. The suspense is killing me. And if people don't like what they're reading, there's clearly no point in me continuing to publish chapters. For the sake of my insecurity, my sanity, REVIEW.**

**I do not own Twilight or any of its angsty characters. Stephenie Meyer does… and she's laughing all the way to the bank.**

**Chapter Three**

I woke up to a familiar sound and, for a moment, I thought everything had been a dream. Just a moment. But as I reached over to silence my alarm clock, I realized it was on the wrong side of the bed. And then my eyes opened, struggling to focus on my foreign surroundings. It was real. I was in Forks. And that meant that today was my first day of school. I groaned, sitting up to shut off the damn alarm.

Last night had been horrible. Unpacking only took a couple of hours, as I really hadn't brought that much to begin with. Still, forcing even my meager wardrobe into a too small closet had been rather challenging. I had managed to hang a few posters, but decided against hanging anything else, save the bulletin board which now sat over my small desk. My walls were a deep purple, left over from one of Renee's darker periods, and adding clutter to them just made the room feel smaller. I liked the color, though. I wouldn't change it.

I slowly swung my legs over the bed and gingerly placed my feet on the hardwood floor, as though testing it for its stability. Damn was that cold… and it was only November. I made a mental note to buy an area rug, if only for the sake of my feet in the morning. Rising now, I squared my shoulders and took a few deep breaths. I had made a decision last night, and I was going to stick to it. This town was a new opportunity for me. A fresh start. And, while I hate starting over, it was time to grow up and deal with it. This had been my decision. Time to start living with it.

I walked around the foot of my bed, Charlie had replaced my ancient twin with a nice fluffy double, and I reminded myself to thank him for it when I got downstairs, and looked warily out my window. I actually had a nice view, facing the woods on the side of the house, but I couldn't appreciate it right now. It was raining. Still. I felt the knot in my stomach wake up like a snarling dragon. My body slumped over a bit, forehead touching the cold glass of the window, as I tried to compose myself. A couple more deep breaths and I decided to move on, get dressed, worry about the things I _could _control. I'd just have to deal with the weather. It rained practically every day in Forks. No sense crying over something I couldn't control.

Spinning on my heel, I quickly crossed the room to my door, grabbing the bathrobe that hung behind it, and walked down the hallway as silently as possible to the bathroom that Charlie and I now shared. It was vacant, and I let out a little sigh of relief. Obviously Charlie woke up much earlier than me. That was good. I closed the door behind me and turned to face myself in the small, oval mirror which hung above the ancient porcelain sink, surveying the damage from last night's pity party. This was not good.

"You need to stop this shit right now, young lady," I lectured my reflection. "Do you have any idea how much time it's going to take me to fix this?"

My hair, generally out of control with its waves, was now a full-blown rat's nest. It stuck out from the back of my head like dark brown Brillo, with small pieces sticking out in odd directions. My eyes, the same brown as my hair, were nearly swollen shut from the amount of crying I had done, the skin underneath them looking hollow and faintly purple, betraying my lack of sleep. My pale complexion was even paler, be it from exhaustion or stress or the sheer terror of what I had to face today. Shaking my head in disgust, I reached down to the faucet and began splashing cold water on my face. I looked up again. It had helped. A bit. Still, this was going to take some work.

I brushed my teeth quickly, trying to forget that, just 24 hours ago, I had been brushing my teeth in my bathroom in Phoenix. I bent over, washing my face in earnest this time, and was just leaving the bathroom when I heard Charlie call up the stairs from the kitchen.

"Bells? You've got about 30 minutes before you have to leave, honey. Hurry up. You don't want to be late."

No. I certainly did not want to be late. I spun into my room, grabbing my hairbrush off my desk and turning to face the low dresser that had been my great-grandmother's. It was a beautiful, dark mahogany with rounded corners and clawed feet. A large, squared mirror rose from behind it, with floral embellishments framing its corners in the same rich wood. I had been terrified of this dresser when I was a little girl, thinking it looked like something out of a haunted house. But it was beautiful. I could see that now.

With some effort, I managed to smooth my long hair into presentable waves, taking small sections from the front and pinning them in the back in preparation for the rain that would surely not be lifting any time soon. Nodding to myself, I reached for my makeup bag, glad that Renee had forced me to buy some basics before I left. I used to just use whatever she had, and she was always happy to share with me. Now, I was on my own in that department.

Not really knowing what I was doing, I covered my face in a light powder. I was still pale, but at least it evened out the splotches and dark circles from last night's sob-fest. I held a dark gray eye liner in my hand and wondered if it was even worth it. "New school, new start," I chanted to myself, and quickly swiped it over both lids before I could change my mind. Mascara came next, and then some clear lip balm, an expensive one that Renee had given me as a going away present. She said it would give me confidence. I had thought she was being ridiculous at the time, but it did look rather nice, and I smiled at myself, stashing the balm in my backpack so I could re-apply later.

My face taken care of, it was time to deal with the rest of me. I opened my window and leaned out a bit, trying to gauge the temperature. It was freezing. Duh. Turning to the closet, I grabbed my favorite pair of jeans and a purple long sleeve t-shirt. Slipping them on quickly, I surveyed myself in the mirror. Not bad. After years of hot weather and tank tops, though, I'd have to get used to all this fabric. Reaching into the closet again, I pulled out a charcoal gray sweater, a short-ish one with a v-neck, and added it to my ensemble. Turning to the mirror, I found myself optimistic for the first time all morning. I really looked good. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

"10 minute warning," Charlie yelled up the stairs, pulling me out of my happy place and pushing me back into reality.

"Shit," I muttered, collecting my backpack and grabbing my new, waterproof boots on my way into the hall. "I'm going to have to start waking up earlier."

I hate feeling rushed… it stresses me out. Oh well, time to push that aside. I took the stairs too fast, stumbling a couple of times and nearly missing the last step entirely. Taking a moment to compose myself, I arranged my face into a smile as I crossed the small living room into the kitchen, wishing Charlie a good morning and thanking him for my new bed.

"No problem, Bells. You get settled in alright?" Charlie asked, rising from the table.

"Oh, yeah, Dad. No worries." I said, watching him dump his dishes from breakfast into the kitchen sink before he made his way to the front door. "You leaving for work?"

He turned sheepishly, as if sorry that he would be leaving before me. "Yeah, Bells. Will you be alright? There's cereal in the pantry, and eggs in the fridge. I didn't really know what you'd want, so I thought we'd go grocery shopping today after work."

"Sounds like a plan," I said, rising to meet him at the door. "Have a great day, Dad. See you when you get home."

"You too, Bells. You remember how to get to the school?"

I nodded.

"Alright, then. Good luck, kiddo." He grabbed his jacket and gun holster from the peg by the hall closet, gave me a weak smile, and reluctantly walked out the door.

I turned and walked back into the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers, trying to remember where everything went. The walls were a simple white, the floor a fading blue linoleum, but the cabinets were canary yellow, another vestige of my mom's brief occupation of the house. I was surprised he hadn't re-painted them after all these years, and took it as a sign that he liked keeping reminders of her around. I grabbed a cereal bar out of the pantry and wandered into the living room, taking the opportunity to check everything out while I was alone.

I grabbed my boots from where I had dropped them by the stairs, and perched myself on the end of a well-worn recliner, clearly Charlie's favorite chair. Lacing up my new, heavy shoes quickly, I glanced around the room, taking in old family photos and knick knacks, remembering some, not recognizing others. I ran my hand over the squat green couch which sat under the front window, adjusted the shade of the white lamp on the end table, and poked Charlie's green recliner, watching it rock back and forth a couple of times before it finally settled again. The small flat-screen tv across from the couch was the only new addition to the room, and I smiled to myself. Charlie must really like his tv.

A hollow chime from the antique clock behind me ended my tour of the house. It was now 7 o'clock. Time to leave for school. I crossed the room in two steps, grabbing my new coat off the peg by the door. It was black and bulky and felt very, very foreign as I pulled my arms through it, pulling the hood up over my hair to protect me from the rain outside. With a sigh of resignation, I swung my backpack over my shoulder and headed out the door, grabbing the key that maintained a permanent residence under the eave by the door and locking it behind me before putting the key back.

Squaring my shoulders, I crossed the lawn in front of the house too quickly as I tried to avoid the rain, losing my balance and nearly wiping out entirely. Straightening, I took slow, deliberate steps towards my truck, breathing deeply once I got inside. This wet grass thing would take a lot of getting used to. I was clumsy anyway, but add slippery surfaces to the mix and I was screwed.

Turning the key, the engine roared to life, waking up anyone within a ten mile radius who had the common sense to still be asleep at 7 o'clock in the morning. Really, I loved this truck… but did it have to be so loud? It took a couple hard pumps of the clutch before I could get into gear, but then I was off, driving down slick, unfamiliar roads, approaching a school I had never been to but still knew the exact location of. I hummed to myself a bit, trying to calm my nerves, trying to make my hands stop shaking, trying to make that damn knot in my stomach go away. When that didn't work, I began chanting.

"New school, new start," I repeated over and over to myself. And then I was there. All too soon. I wished the drive had taken longer, I wished there was traffic, I wished I was braver, prettier, more interesting, I wished a bolt of lightning would come down and hit me now so I wouldn't have to do this. I wished to be anywhere but here. But it didn't work.

I pulled into the first parking lot I saw, parking directly in front of a sign that read "Forks High School, Home of the Spartans." Fuck me. Here we go.

**A/N: I hate editing after I write, and I don't have the patience to wait to post, so please forgive any awkward wordings. My plan is to go back and edit every couple of days, or as I feel like it, so bits and pieces may be changing occasionally. If anyone would like to volunteer to Beta for me, it'd be super helpful. I'm treading water on my own right now. REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This is totally becoming a dangerous obsession. I was knitting at a stitch and bitch today, and all I could think about was getting home to write another chapter. Seriously. Thank god I'm between relationships right now, cause if I was dating someone, he'd be forced to kill me. Did I really just say that? Lol. Also, I just found a story timeline and realized that Bella started school in January, not November as I believe I said in the previous chapter. I'm going to go back and change that… I like January better.**

**Twilight and its characters don't belong to me. I just play with them, like a kid with puppets. Stephenie Meyer designed and owns the puppets. I just make them dance. *evil laugh***

**Chapter Four**

"New school, new start," I breathed to myself a couple more times. Taking a quick glance around the parking lot, I noticed only a couple of cars, and realized I had probably parked in the wrong place. The cars looked far too sensible to belong to students. Examining the building in front of me from the cab of my truck, I noticed a small, neat sign reading "Front Office" hanging above a door situated to the side of the building. I let out a small sigh of relief. I had stumbled upon the building that I needed, and without even trying. That had to be a good sign, right?

I stepped cautiously out of the truck, grateful that the rainfall had slowed to a mere drizzle, and hurried towards the covered walkway that lead into the building. Obviously I would need to move my car, but at least now I wouldn't have to walk around campus lost for the first few minutes of my day. Lowering my jacket hood when I reached the office door, I arranged a smile on my face for the second time that day. I was Chief Swan's daughter. I had a role to play.

"Hello, dear. What can I do for you?" a kind voice asked from behind a long, low counter that dissected the room.

"Umm… hi. I'm supposed to start classes today. I'm-"

"Oh, of course. You're Isabella, Charlie's daughter. Welcome to Forks, dear. " she said warmly, smiling at me from beneath her glasses. She stood and began gathering papers from some of the neatly arranged piles on the counter. "Here's everything you'll need. School map, policies, etc. Let me just go and find your schedule," she began rifling through a file cabinet to her left.

I took a quick look around the room. It was warm in here. Too warm. The walls were an aging butter yellow, flecked with water stains in places, and adorned with useless academic posters like "Reading is FUNdamental." There was a loudly ticking, institutional looking clock against the back wall, the kind every classroom has and every student stares at raptly until it's time for the next bell. The commercial-grade carpet was a sort of brown color now. It was hard to tell what color it used to be. There were a handful of desks behind the counter, and some low seats against the wall in front of the counter. Clearly defined spaces for students and adults. Boundaries.

"Here you go, Isabella."

"Bella." I corrected automatically, reaching forward for the papers she was handing me. "Do I need to buy a parking sticker or anything?" I asked, immediately regretting it after seeing her bite back her laughter. I was used to big schools, big cities. This would take some getting used to.

"No, dear. Of course not. We have plenty of parking. Just be sure to park in the student lot," she said, still hanging on to the giggle that I was sure she would release when I left. She gestured to my map, showing me where I was allowed to park. She then handed me another, smaller slip of paper, telling me to get it signed by my teachers and bring it back at the end of the day. Wishing me luck, and sending me off with a nod and a wave, she ushered me out of the office and back into the cold air. Note to self, don't ask anymore stupid questions. Ever.

Back in my truck, I followed the now steady line of traffic that was forming on the road into a larger parking lot. Checking my map to make sure I was in the right place, I maneuvered my truck into a spot close to the back, cutting the engine as soon as I was in. Taking a quick glance around, I took comfort in the diversity of makes and models and years pulling in around me. Mine was not the worst car here. So far, so good.

Carefully making my way down the rows of cars, I stole a quick glance at my schedule. English. Building three. Alright. I can do this. I pulled the hood of my jacket farther down over my face, savoring my anonymity for as long as possible before the assault of attention I'd certainly be met with as the day wore on. I was a new girl in a small town. I was a new girl in an even smaller school. I was a new girl in an even smaller junior class. I shook my head, willing the knot in my stomach away. I could do this. New school, new start.

I noticed with relief that the buildings on this campus were very clearly numbered and very close together. My map would not be needed. I was spared from at least one humiliation for the day. Spotting building three, I cut across the grass in front of me, hoping to reach it faster. My foot sunk down an inch, water oozing around my thankfully waterproof boots. Note to self, avoid grass. I immediately got myself back onto a sidewalk, taking the long way around as I followed dozens of damp coats into the deliciously warm building. Taking a quick look around, I spotted my room number and approached it carefully, my boots slipping and squeaking on the hallway floor. I can do this. New school, new start. Two deep breaths. Here we go.

I was in, quickly shrugging off my coat and hanging it on one of the hooks lining the wall next to the door, mirroring the actions of the strangers who walked in ahead of me. Keeping my head down, I made a beeline for the desk in the front of the classroom, handing the requisite slip of paper to the teacher and receiving a course syllabus in return. He signed my slip and directed me to an empty desk in the back, which I walked to thankfully. At least in the back nobody could stare at me. Wrong.

Arranging myself in my desk, I looked up to see 20 pairs of eyes facing me. Appraising me. Wondering about me. I felt myself blush and I looked down immediately, studying first my syllabus, then my new notebook, then a piece of lint on my sweater. Anything. Anything to keep me from looking up again. And then it hit me. These people don't know me. They know my dad, but they don't know me. They don't know anything about me. They don't know who I am or what I like or how I was at my old school. This is an opportunity. I can be who I want here. New school, new start. Get your shit together, Swan. You're blowing it.

I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, straightened my shoulders, bit my lip, and looked up. And it was over. And not that bad. The class was studying Shakespeare, something I was more than familiar with from back home, and I even answered a couple of questions. Eyes turned to me frequently, and I just looked right back at them. No, they didn't know me. But I didn't know them, either. And it was ok. I was ok. This day would be ok.

The bell rang and I collected my things, glancing again at my schedule again before heading towards the door. I was stuffing myself back into my jacket when a voice spoke my name behind me.

"You're Isabella Swan, right?" the voice confidently asked. I spun to look at him. "I'm Eric. Eric Murphy," he continued, offering me his hand.

"Hey, Eric. Nice to meet you. It's Bella, though. I prefer Bella," I said, wondering how many times I would be forced to repeat those words today. I shook his hand gratefully, examining him. His hair was black and greasy, slicked back off of his acne marred face, but his brown eyes were warm and friendly as he offered to show me to my next class, walking me right up to the door.

"I have Spanish now, so I'm not going in with you, but I'll see you later," he said, his voice a mix of hope and regret and nerves. This boy clearly liked me. I hoped it wouldn't be an issue.

"Definitely," I smiled back at him. "Thanks so much for your help." I walked into the buzzing classroom to begin again the ritual that would consume my day. Hang coat, greet teacher, get paper signed, receive syllabus, walk to desk, stare at clock, space out. Repeat.

The classes were too easy, the faces too eager to stare at me, and the time moved too slowly, but I made it through the first half of my day. In every class, a stranger offered to walk me to the next one. With every stranger, I repeated my lines. "Nice to meet you. I prefer Bella."

And now I was walking to the cafeteria with a chatty girl from my trigonometry class whose name I did not remember. There had been too many names this morning. She was shorter than me, which is saying a lot since I'm only 5'4", with a mass of curly black hair threatening to envelop her slight features at any moment. She spoke animatedly about teachers I should like, teachers I should hate, girls I should like, girls I should hate, etc. She talked through the lunch line, through the cashier, and as she led me to a table of her friends, ushering me to sit. Smiling around the table, she had each person introduce themselves. I forgot their names immediately. But at least they all looked familiar. I noticed throughout the day that I generally had the same kids with me in every class. That was good. Less to remember. One of them called her Jess, and I filed that away. Her name was Jessica. Check.

I was asked over and over how I liked Forks and over and over again I lied. When asked why I moved from Phoenix, I made a joke about being allergic to the sun. Nobody laughed. Still, everyone here was pale like me, and I felt a little more at ease. In Phoenix everyone was too tan and too blonde and too happy all the time. Forks was probably just as disingenuous, but at least I looked like I belonged.

I made efforts I wouldn't have made in Phoenix, talking to everyone and trying to be charming. I took this as an opportunity for this place to be different for me. I didn't have to be alienated here. I could have friends and a life. I could be typical for once. And then I saw them. And I felt my whole world change.

They sat at their own table across the room, and they were beautiful. So beautiful. My breath caught in my throat as I studied them, taking them in, fascinated. There were five of them situated around the table. Their backs were to the window behind them as they sat facing the room, but they didn't look at each other. They didn't look at anyone. They just sat. And they were so beautiful.

There were three boys and two girls. But they didn't look like boys and girls, they looked like men and women. Like models. Like movie stars. One of the boys was enormous, muscular, and very intimidating with a shock of dark, curly hair. Another was tall and lean, but still clearly muscled, and he sat with his head in his hands, fingers braided through his honey-colored hair. He looked sad. Uncomfortable. Something. The girl to his right had her hand on his shoulder, but she didn't look at him. She was tiny and sprite-like, with fine, angular features and unruly black hair, cut short and sticking every which way. On the other side of her sat a startlingly beautiful girl. She was statuesque and poised and her face epitomized perfection. Her honey hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders and down her back, and she leaned over suddenly to talk to the larger, intimidating one. They all looked different, but the same. They shared complexions, each with skin like white marble. In a room full of pale people, their skin tone still stood out. But none of them mattered. The only one that mattered was him. The only person in the room was him. On the planet, in the universe. I was terrified. And then I was in love.

He was slouched in such a graceful way that you couldn't really call it slouching. He looked like he was trying to protect himself from the world, trying to keep people out and away. He seemed younger than the rest of them, with a boyish face. A beautiful face. A face that put every other face to shame. Shifting, he ran his fingers through his hair, long and bronze-colored and wildly out of control. I wanted to cross the room and touch that hair, touch his face, touch his body. I wanted to worship him as my own personal deity. As beauty incarnate. As perfection found. I was terrified. And I was in love. And I needed information.

Forcing myself to break my gaze, I turned to Jessica, trying to be nonchalant and probably failing miserably. "Who are they?"

She didn't even have to look towards where I was gesturing. She knew who I was talking about. The whole table knew who I was talking about. "Those are the Cullens," she said, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling. Clearly, the girl loved gossip. "They're Doctor Cullen's kids."

"They're all related?" I asked. That was a surprise. Aside from their beauty and their skin, they looked nothing alike.

"Well, they're adopted. The blonde girl and the blonde guy are Rosalie and Jasper Hale. They're twins," she began, nodding to who she was talking about. In the middle of her speech, the smaller girl with the black hair left the table, dumping her full lunch tray in the trash and skipping out like a gazelle. "The other two guys are Edward and Emmett Cullen. The girl that just left is their sister, Alice Cullen," she finished, sitting back in her seat.

"They're all adopted? That's really nice of… Doctor Cullen, was it?" I was impressed. To adopt five kids like that, and keep them as siblings. That took a big heart.

"Well, his wife couldn't have kids or something," Jessica said, dismissing the charitable aspect of their situation. I didn't like Jessica. "That's not the best part, though," she grinner, leaning all the way across the table now. "They're all _together_." She pronounced every syllable, her eyes fixed on my face, waiting for my reaction. "Rosalie and Emmett, Jasper and Alice. And, they _live together_." She was clearly enjoying this.

"They're adopted, though, so they're not really related," a small, dark girl sitting next to Jessica said, trying to defend them. Jessica just gave her a look and grinned at me, clearly pleased by whatever my face did. I was having problems thinking. I could barely breathe with that boy in the room. Her story finished, I risked another glance at the table.

"Which one's Edward?" I asked, trying to sound casual. He looked up then, as though he heard me. And my heart stopped.

"The one with the reddish hair," she said, "in the black shirt."

Was he wearing a shirt? I hadn't even noticed that part.

"Don't get too excited, though," she continued. "Edward doesn't date. Ever. Apparently none of the girls here are good enough for him," her tone was a bit too flat, a bit too annoyed. She had obviously tried and failed. I quickly adjusted my hand over my mouth to hide my smile, and stole another look through my hair at him. At Edward. Oddly enough, he was smiling, too.

The rest of lunch went quickly and quietly. The table continued to question me, and I'm sure I was answering them, but all I could see was him. In moments of bravery, I would look at him outright, only to see his dark eyes burning into mine. His expression seemed to waver between confused and frustrated, but his eyes were always there. And they were watching me, studying me, making me deliciously uncomfortable. And then the bell rang.

I rose reluctantly, following his lanky, beautiful form with my eyes as he gracefully collected his things and was out the door before anyone else. I wished I had followed him. Wished I would see him again. Wished…

"Bella, didn't you say you had biology next?" I was brought back to earth by the small, dark girl who had defended the Cullens earlier. Biology? What's biology. I blinked a couple of times and nodded. Biology. Right. "Well, that's my next class, too. I'll walk with you if you like." I nodded again. It was the best I could do until I could convince my brain to start working again. "I'm Angela," she reminded me helpfully.

Leading me to the appropriate building, I realized that Angela was just as shy as I was. I warmed to her immediately. We made friendly small talk, discussing the teacher and what the class had covered so far, her hands constantly fidgeting with her jacket, her face protected behind her straight brown hair. She was tall and nervous and shy and I liked her.

We reached the room, hanging our jackets, and Angela proceeded to her lab table, giving me a small smile as she walked away. I watched her sit, hoping she would have an empty seat next to her, disappointed as I realized that every table looked full but one. I turned to the teacher, Mr. Banner according to the embroidery on his lab coat, and had him sign my slip. He handed me a text book and syllabus, sending me on my way, pointing to the empty table.

"You can partner with Mr. Cullen," he said before turning to the board to begin the day's lecture.

Mr. Cullen.

My heart stopped.

Mr. Cullen.

My brain stopped.

Mr. Cullen.

My body froze.

A giggle next to me snapped me out of it. I was standing in the front of the room like an idiot. Get moving, Swan. Keep it together. With great effort, I taught my legs to move again, one foot in front of the other, and I was walking, my head down, my eyes to the floor, willing myself not to trip, not to look any more like an ass than I already did. I was two tables away, then one… and then I was there. I placed my things on the flat black surface and looked up.

Mr. Cullen.

Edward Cullen.

There he sat.

And he looked furious.

And I was terrified.

And I was in love.

**A/N: I know, I suck. I always felt like what happened in bio was too important not to have its own chapter, so I'm going to give it one. Please review. I'll write you some smut if you do. Scout's honor.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I should so be asleep right now, but I couldn't leave Edward and Bella hanging like that. This'll probably be short… I just want to get them out of my head so I can dream happy dreams… dreams of vampires and girls and meadows and whatnot. Ugh. Must stop thinking. Please review. Reviews make me happy.**

**I don't own Twilight. Wish I did. Damn it all.**

**Chapter Five**

Edward Cullen.

I froze immediately, shocked by his body language. How could he be so angry with me, so furious? His entire body was tensed, fists clenched against the table, his already pale hands turning whiter around the knuckles. What was this? What had I done.

And then I saw his eyes, his face. And I wanted to run. To cry. To scream. To curl into a ball on the floor. His eyes were black. Blacker than black. Blacker than anything I had ever seen before. And they were filled with hate. And I was terrified. And still, maddeningly enough, I was in love.

"Ms. Swan, if you would take your seat please?" I heard Mr. Banner call out behind me. I was holding up class. People were giggling around me. I looked like an idiot. I had to sit. I had to remember how to move. I had to do it. Now. "Ms. Swan?" he called again. Fuck it. Just move, Bella.

I walked around the corner of the lab table to my stool and forced myself down. And I was sitting. And he moved his stool away from mine. He moved it as far away as he could. He was practically sitting on top of the window that was built into the wall next to him. There was no mistaking this. He was trying to get away. He wanted nothing to do with me.

Panic washed over me, followed by hurt, followed by anger. What had I done to this boy? This boy did not know me, did not know anything about me, and still he hated me. I shifted my hair over my shoulder, creating a curtain between us. I heard him inhale sharply at this and then freeze, his body tensing further, as if that were even possible. I stole a glance through my shield and saw him covering his face with his hand, as though he smelled something horrible. Self-conscious, I quietly sniffed my hair, my sweater, my hands… nothing. I smelled the same as I always did, like strawberry shampoo and Dove soap. I smelled like me. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I was the problem. Bitter tears started to well up behind my eyes, but I blinked them back. No. There would be none of that. Not here. Not now.

Class moved excruciatingly slowly and I didn't even try to pay attention to the lecture. All I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears, drowning everything else out. Except for him. Edward Cullen. Every move he made, I noticed. Every sharp little sound, I cringed. We made eye contact. Once. His eyes bored a hole through my head, willing me to go away, to die, to never have been born. And at that moment, I wanted to go away, to die, to never have been born.

I wanted to pound my fists on his chest and call him an asshole for treating me this way. I wanted to drop to my knees in front of him and beg him for a second chance. Because the bottom line was, the moment I saw this boy, this perfect creature in the cafeteria, I knew I would never, ever want anyone else. I knew he was too beautiful for me, too godlike, too surreal, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

I loved him.

And I always would.

And he hated me. So, in that moment, I hated me, too.

The bell rang and I decided to say something to him. Anything. Find out what I'd done. But as I turned to speak to him, he was gone. Out the door and out of sight before I had a chance to process his absence. And then I missed him. I_ missed_ him. In spite of his murderous glare and his insulting posture and his blind prejudice against me. I just missed him. Fuck. Why me?

I zipped up my bag and turned to walk away from the table, only to be greeted by a pair of friendly, blue eyes and a head of spiked blonde hair. I vaguely remembered Jessica pointing him out to me in the cafeteria earlier. I couldn't remember why.

"Hey," the face in front of me said. "I'm Mike Newton. Nice to meet you, Isabella."

"Bella," I corrected out of habit. He looked friendly enough. I gave him a smile. A tense smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Hi."

"Bella, sorry," he said, smiling widely at me. "So, _Bella_, what's your last class?" I rifled through my pocket for my schedule, handing it to him without even bothering to look at it. I had too much on my mind. I needed to process what had just happened. "Gym. Excellent. That's where I'm going. I'll walk you."

Wait. Gym? Had he just said gym? He handed the abused sheet of paper back, and I looked at it frantically. Gym. There it was. Great. What a fabulous day this was turning into. Maybe I'd get lucky and get a concussion. At least I'd forget about… Who was I kidding? I didn't want to forget him. He could hate me for the rest of my life, but I didn't want to forget him.

"That'd be great, Mike. Thanks."

I fell into step beside him, answering the same questions I'd answered all day, barely paying attention. Until he said his name. Then I hung on every word.

"Hey, what was up with Cullen back there?" he asked me, smiling nervously. "Did you stab him with your pencil or something?"

I thought about that, glad that he had noticed. Glad that it wasn't just me. Glad that there were witnesses to my maltreatment. And then I was upset again. Because the way he behaved apparently wasn't normal. And that meant that I had done something to make him act out of character. I had made him act strangely enough that Mike had noticed. I had made him act strangely. My mind reeled, again trying to figure out what I had done.

"That wasn't normal for him, huh?" I asked, trying to inject some levity into my tone.

"Normal? No way. He looked pissed," Mike said, clearly eager to find out what I had done to make him so angry. Mike did not like Edward. That much was obvious.

"I don't know," I said carefully, trying to keep my tone bright. "Doesn't matter, though. If he's going to be an asshole, then I don't want to talk to him." Lie. What a lie. He could beat me bloody and I'd still crave his presence. What a sick fuck I'm turning into.

"Haha, amen," Mike said, chuckling at my little speech. "It's a good thing I already had a lab partner, though. If you'd have sat down next to me, I wouldn't have been able to resist talking to you for the rest of the year." He gave me what I'm sure he considered his most charming smile, his eyes twinkling. "Anyway, we're here," he gestured to the building. "Girls' locker rooms are down that hall. I'd go with you, but they tend to frown on that sort of thing. See you in class, Bella."

I waved weakly at his back, frustrated by his clearly amorous intentions. He was a good looking boy and he clearly liked me. He really seemed very nice, too. He didn't scowl at me or try to break the table in half when he saw me. He didn't cover his face, repulsed by my very presence. But he wasn't Edward.

Edward Cullen.

I shook my head and made my way into the locker room, accepting a uniform from the gym teacher and nodding through a quick lecture on personal hygiene. At least gym was last period. I hated showering in school.

I changed quickly, making a mental note to bring tennis shoes with me tomorrow. Walking into the too bright gym, I smiled a bit inside. Yes, they were playing volleyball and, yes, I hated volleyball. But I was wearing waterproof boots. And there was no way they were going to let me ruin the gym floor with them. I was immediately pointed towards the bleachers by one of the gym teachers, and I considered "forgetting" to bring the right shoes for the next few days. Situating myself on a bench, I smiled tightly as Mike waved at me from across the room, nodding in acknowledgement of the too eager greeting and waving back weakly. I was going to have to put a stop to that. I definitely wasn't interested.

But why not? He was cute and nice and happy and would probably make a very good boyfriend. Why shouldn't I give it a shot? It wouldn't be the first time I dated someone I wasn't one hundred percent interested in. I should do it. I should. I should date Mike Newton.

I tried to imagine going on a date with Mike, the two of us sitting in a restaurant. Holding his hand as we walked down the hallways at school. Kissing him goodnight in front of Charlie's house. It didn't look too bad. But then, out of nowhere, there was another face in my mind, knocking Mike out of position. And I knew I was hopeless and screwed and lost.

Edward Cullen.

Edward Cullen sitting across from me at a restaurant, looking perfect and oh so beautiful in a black suit, his bronze hair an artful mess and his lips curled into a smile. Edward Cullen holding my hand as we walked from the cafeteria, his body shaking with laughter as we talked about god knows what. Edward Cullen in front of Charlie's house. Edward Cullen kissing me. Edward Cullen's hands on my body, doing things to me that feel so amazing they should be illegal…

Stop it, Swan. This isn't the time or the place. Stop it. He was an asshole, he hates you, get over it.

And I thought about him in biology not more than twenty minutes ago. The way he moved away from me. The hateful look in his eyes.

And then I played the scene the way I wanted it. The way it would never be. And I blushed so furiously I felt like my body would melt.

Edward Cullen moving towards me across the table, his eyes intense, his lips parted. Edward Cullen looking at me with desire, with want, with need. His lips moving to my neck, his tongue making smooth circles on my skin as I moan with pleasure. His hands reaching under my sweater, my shirt, finding the skin on the small of my back and bringing me closer to him. His body pressing into mine, crushing me against him. His tongue trailing up to my chin now, pausing briefly so he can look into my eyes before hungrily placing his lips against mine, devouring me, devouring my soul, taking me. "You belong to me now," he whispers in my ear. And I did. I do. Forever.

And then gym was over. My day was over. And I was free of this place, this school, this private hell. For the rest of the day, anyway.

I walked swiftly to the office, wanting to escape my hurt and frustration, wanting to leave my feelings on campus. Every corner I turned, I looked for him, wanting desperately to see him again and yet terrified of the prospect. No luck, though. He was probably gone by now.

Walking into the office, I froze for the hundredth time that day, flattening myself against the wall by the door. Edward Cullen. Was there. In front of me. My heart danced and my stomach tightened.

He was leaning over the counter, speaking urgently with the woman who had helped me this morning. I had never heard his voice before. It was beautiful. It was bells and choirs and velvet and chocolate and everything good and beautiful and sexy in the world. It was silk sheets and bubble baths. It was heaven. I listened eagerly, wanting to drink in the sound of it, wanting to commit it to memory.

"Anything else, anything you have. Every class can't possibly be full. Come now, Mrs. Cope, we can work something out I'm sure," he said, reaching across the counter to move a lock of red hair from her eyes. Wow. Did he really just do that? She blushed a shade of red that even I couldn't achieve.

"I'm very sorry, Edward," she stammered, "but everything really is full. The school year's nearly over. Surely you can stay in Mr. Banner's class. It can't be that bad." Wait. What?

A girl opened the door next to me, rushing in and dropping a note in a basket at the end of the counter before rushing out again. The cold air swirled in behind her, rustling the notices tacked artlessly to the wall behind me and stunning me momentarily. The cold air swirled and Edward tensed. Every muscle in his body contracted. His hands, draped casually over the counter before, were now clenched into tight fists, his arms crossed as though he were restraining himself. And he began to turn.

Edward Cullen turned his head. And he looked at me. He glared at me. He hated me.

The knot in my stomach turned into a boulder. My heart stuttered before taking off at such a pace that it probably should've killed me. I felt my face begin to betray me and I willed myself not to blush, not to cower, not to wince. I willed myself to hate him back, to scream at him, to cross the room and slap him across his beautiful face. But I couldn't.

"Thanks for your help, Mrs. Cope," he spat, turning on his heel and storming out of the office. And then he was gone. And I missed him. Fuck.

I handed my signed slip to a stunned Mrs. Cope, hearing her mutter incoherently behind me as I rushed out of the office. I tripped three times on the way back to my truck and I didn't care. I would've flat out run if my boots would have let me. I had to get out of here. Now.

I drove as fast as my engine would permit, which wasn't all that fast, but finally I was home. Well, Charlie's home. But still, it was mine. Letting myself in, I sprinted upstairs and into my room, craving sanctuary. I stripped off everything, my jeans and my layers, pulling on my favorite flannel pants and Renee's old sweatshirt, and I flung myself onto the bed, tears already flowing freely.

What had I done? Why me? I don't fall for boys. Ever. I don't flirt, I don't get crushes, and I certainly don't fall in love. And there was just no question about it. I was in love. I was irrevocably in love. Every fiber of my being craved him, needed him, like a drug. I was addicted to Edward.

Edward Cullen.

His name was like a prayer.

I curled into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. I remembered his face. His body. His voice. I remembered how hopeless he had looked in the cafeteria. How closed off. How alone. And then I remembered how he had looked in biology, and I shuddered.

Edward Cullen.

There was no doubt about it. I had done something wrong. He hated me. His behavior in biology, and then his desperation to get out of my class. To get away from me. I repulsed him. A fresh batch of tears made their way down my face. I repulsed him.

Edward Cullen.

He hated me.

And I was in love.

**A/N: The next few chapters may be slow in coming. I've been reading too much good fanfic and forget how the sequence of events go down in Meyer's book. Kinda funny. Anyway, I need to do my homework on this, so it might take me some time. Hope you're enjoying. Once again, I haven't edited, so please be patient. And… REVIEW. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and its characters. Congratulate her if you see her.**

**Chapter Six**

Tuesday came and went, easier than Monday but just as frustrating, just as uncomfortable. There was less interviewing from my classmates, there were less nervous introductions, and everywhere I went, people smiled at me, eager to make a new friend. And for every smile I received, I forced myself to give one back. New school, new start. No way was I going to let one mishap ruin my chances of making friends.

Mike Newton attached himself to my side, as though I had asked him to, as though he belonged there. He became my permanent shadow as did, to my surprise, Eric Yorkie. They flanked me in English class, sitting on either side of me. Leaning in to talk to me whenever the teacher turned their back. They followed me to my classes, talking over each other a little too loudly, trying to capture my attention. At lunch, Jessica's regular table became a bit overpopulated, with Mike and Eric joining us along with a boy who introduced himself as Tyler Crowley. Tyler was rather fond of leaning over people to talk to me, rumpling his brown hair and smiling too widely as he told me things I didn't really care about. I wasn't paying attention. I had other things on my mind.

Edward Cullen.

He wasn't there. He wasn't at his table. His family was there. Emmett and Rosalie and Jasper and Alice. There they sat. And he was gone. Absent. Elsewhere.

Why?

My stomach tightened.

He couldn't bear to look at me today.

To be around me.

He wasn't there because of me.

Because of me.

But that was silly.

Silly and ridiculous and egocentric.

And right.

I knew it was right.

He wasn't there because of me.

Lunch ended and I walked to class with Angela again, this time in silence. She didn't prattle or laugh too loudly or try too hard. I liked her. My breath caught in my throat as we turned the corner into the classroom, my eyes going immediately to my table, our table, his table. But he wasn't there. And I felt sad and lost and hurt and miserable.

The week wore on, uneventful and dragging. Mike, Eric, and Tyler stalked me, begging for opinions on things that I couldn't have cared less about and including me in conversations so inane that I wanted to cover my ears and walk in the other direction. Jessica continued to be my "friend," though she clearly saw me as something else entirely. Her smiles were a little too fake for me, and her eyes betrayed her intentions. She kept me around for the attention I brought with me. And that was fine. I had people to sit with at lunch, and people to talk to between classes. I didn't need best friends. I was beginning to figure out that high school was pretty much the same everywhere.

Having gym every day was a nightmare, but there was nothing I could do about it short of amputating my feet. We were still playing volleyball, and I was dutifully wearing my sneakers now. Mostly I stood in front of the net, staring into space, grimacing at the minor injuries my lack of cognizance brought me. Mike figured out quickly that I was desperately uncoordinated, and he chivalrously made sure to be on my team every time, covering my side as well as his. That was nice. He was nice. But he wasn't Edward.

Edward Cullen.

He never showed all week. He was just… gone. Every day, I checked his table in the cafeteria, and every day there were four beautiful people instead of five. And I began to question my sanity.

This couldn't have been just about me anymore. I could see someone skipping for one day out of annoyance, avoidance, but not four. There had to be something else, something keeping him, some sort of problem.

Maybe he was sick. My heart ached at that idea. I didn't want him to be sick. I didn't want him to be unhappy or hurt or in pain. I wanted him to be back. I wanted him to be here. I didn't care if he glared at me. I would take it. He could swear at me. Beat me. Kill me. I would take it. I just needed to see him. I needed to hear his voice. I needed… Shit, Swan… you need to stop this. Now.

Things at home turned pretty routine pretty quickly. Charlie took me grocery shopping, and I quickly realized that I would have to take over the cooking duties if I wanted my meals to be edible. That was fine. Nothing new there. Renee was the same way. But I liked cooking. I liked killing time. I liked concentrating on something that wasn't… him.

By the end of the week, I wasn't crying myself to sleep anymore. I was just there. This was my home now. And, really, Edward couldn't have been that great. That was just nerves. I was just projecting, just trying to connect with someone. I was just fantasizing. And he clearly didn't like me anyway. There was no point fixating. There was nothing there. I became very adept at lying to myself.

My room began to shape up, and I took the weekend as an opportunity to spend some of my savings on perking up my surroundings. I bought my feet a rug, and I bought my ears a cheap iPod dock. It was easier to talk myself into optimism with warm feet and something to listen to.

Renee e-mailed me every day, rambling about Phil and new cities and bad hotel rooms. She was loving every second of it, and I was glad that I had made the sacrifice. She was happy. No matter how weird things got for me, at least she was happy. I dutifully responded to every e-mail, commenting on all of her stories, and offering anecdotes about new friends and new teachers and new bruises. My mother found my clumsiness hilarious. She had been a dancer when she was younger, before Charlie, and she found our differences endearing. She was loud and crazy and happy and graceful, and I was quiet and introverted and even-tempered and accident-prone. She called us yin and yang. And we were.

I started exploring the town a bit, trying to fill my time, occupy my mind. Charlie was constantly at work, and when he wasn't busy playing Chief of Police, he was out fishing with his friends. I insisted that he maintain the same lifestyle he'd had before my arrival, and, in spite of his initial reluctance to comply with my mandate, I knew he was relieved. We loved each other, but we still weren't that comfortable with each other's presence just yet.

I wandered Forks aimlessly on Sunday, driving up and down streets, drifting into stores. There wasn't much. I tried the library, hoping to grab some new books, but the selection was so scant that I walked right back out again. That wouldn't do. I needed books. I needed clothes, too. I'd have to plan a drive out to Port Angeles or Seattle. Find some decent shopping.

And then it was Monday, and everything felt fine. I was fine. Life was fine. If Edward didn't want to be here, then I sure as hell wasn't going to miss him. How ridiculous was it to miss a stranger, anyway? And a rude stranger at that?

Mike walked me out of English again, talking animatedly about some trip to the beach that he was planning. I smiled tightly, feigning enthusiasm, wondering why anyone would want to surf in 30 degree weather, but stopped dead when we walked out of the building.

"Hell, yeah," Mike said, excitedly, offering me a high five. "It's snowing."

Apparently snow was a good thing. Everyone around me was chattering excitedly. I didn't get the draw. It was everywhere, clinging thinly to the ground, hanging on for dear life. I returned his high five without a shred of enthusiasm. "Snow?" I said. "Really?"

"Haven't you ever seen snow before, Bella?" Mike turned to look at me, one eyebrow arched, an ironic smile on his lips.

"Yeah, on TV," I retorted, raising the hood of my jacket before venturing away from the building to my next class. "I like it better there."

He laughed again, catching up to me, stooping occasionally as we walked to grab handfuls of the white slush to hurl at unsuspecting friends as they passed. I looked around in wonder. Everyone was loving this. Why? Wet was bad, but cold and wet and melty was a thousand times worse. These kids were nuts.

The buzz of excitement over what was apparently the first snowfall of the new year kept up throughout the morning. I walked to the cafeteria for lunch, half-listening to Mike and Jess as they planned a snowball fight after school in the parking lot. The planning continued as we grabbed our trays and hopped into the long line that had already formed. Turning the corner to the a la carte area, I looked up automatically, checking the Cullen table out of habit now more than out of interest.

I dropped my tray, not hearing it as it clattered to the floor.

My heart stopped.

I couldn't breathe.

Edward Cullen.

Edward Cullen was here.

At lunch.

At his table.

Laughing and smiling as though nothing has ever bothered him in his entire life.

"Bella," Jess said behind me, shaking my shoulder. "You're holding up the line. What do you want?"

His face turned then. He looked across the room, and his eyes met mine. It was as though he had been waiting to hear my name. As though he was waiting for me. His eyes met mine, and he looked different. His face bore the same curious expression he had worn a week ago in this same room, but his eyes, even from a distance, help no anger. No ill will. He was just looking at me.

Edward Cullen.

"I'm not hungry," I breathed, grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler and getting out of the way. I didn't look at him anymore. I didn't look at him as I paid for my drink. Didn't look as I walked to our regular table, friends in tow. Didn't look as I dumped my things on the ground and threw myself into a chair. I didn't look. I willed myself not to look. And with every passing moment, not looking got harder. I wanted to see him again. Wanted to see his face, his eyes. I wanted to believe that last week had been my imagination. I wanted to figure him out. But I didn't. I rested my forehead on the cool table in front of me, letting my hair hang down around me, protecting me. I didn't look.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you," Jessica said suddenly. Her tone was flat. Her voice had a slight edge to it. She didn't like it. Whatever.

"Does he look angry?" I asked carefully, straightening up from my slouched position and trying to find answers in her face. There were none. I gripped the edge of the table, fighting the urge to look across the room and see for myself.

"No," she said, surprised by my question. "Why would he be?" Her tone perked up a bit, hoping for some decent gossip, something she could spread around the school about me. A scandal.

"I just… I don't think he likes me very much," I responded with a sigh. Enough of this. He was just a boy. I propped my elbows up on the table in front of me and rested my head in my hands, creating another curtain of hair. One peek couldn't kill me. He was just a boy. I looked cautiously, wondering what he would be doing. And there he was again. Looking right back.

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a crooked smile, and, for a moment, I died.

Edward Cullen.

Fuck, Bella, you're never looking at him again.

I dropped my gaze immediately, slumping forward and placing my head back on the table. This was not ok. This was not ok. What do I do now?

"He's still staring, Bella," Jessica whispered.

"Stop looking at him," I responded miserably, glancing up quickly to make sure she'd heeded my request. Wondering if I'd resort to violence if she refused. She just nodded once and re-focused on whatever Mike was whining about, putting her hand on his shoulder in sympathy.

Please, god, let me never be that girl.

The rest of lunch was torture. I felt his gaze on me the entire time, but I did not allow myself to look at him anymore. Anyone who effected me the way he did should not be looked at. Looking would only lead to trouble. More feelings. More hurt.

I frantically tried to decide whether or not I should go to biology. I played different scenarios in my head about how the class might play out. I yelled in some. I talked calmly in others. In one I ignored him entirely. My favorite scenario involved him throwing me onto the lab table and ripping my clothes off, growling passionately in my ear. I cut that one off rather quickly, though. No sense giving myself something to blush about the next time I saw him up close.

The bell rang and I sighed, knowing all that agonizing had been in vain. I had never cut a single class in my life, and there was simply no way I was going to start now. Besides, he might not even be there. Maybe he had succeeded in switching classes. Maybe that's why he was back.

I remember walking to the classroom with Angela, listening to her talk about something. I remember nodding at all the right times and asking her relevant questions. I remember purposefully facing the peg by the door when we walked in, and deliberately removing my jacket as though it was an intensely complicated procedure. I remember closing my eyes and taking two deep breaths before turning to face the classroom. And I remember the hurt and surprise that washed over me when, as I approached my lab table, I realized he wasn't there.

Unceremoniously dropping my backpack on the floor next to me, I flopped down onto my stool and sank forward, head in hands. I didn't understand what was going on. I was afraid of him being there, afraid of turning around and seeing him. But then I was miserable. Miserable that he _wasn't_ there, miserable that I couldn't look at him up close and just exist next to him for a while. I was confused and angry with him, but I was just so lost without him.

This boy who I don't even know.

This boy who I've never even spoken to.

Edward Cullen.

The boy I loved.

The boy who… wait. Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.

I heard him before I saw him. My eyes had been focused on the black tabletop in front of me, so that wasn't a surprise. The seat next to me moved… loudly. It scraped across the linoleum, and I watched as a pair of long, muscular legs wrapped in dark, expensive looking jeans situated themselves, brown leather shoes resting lightly on the wooden rungs of the stool. I followed the legs upward as they led to a crisp white shirt, a neatly pressed collar, a long, pale neck, and, finally, the most beautiful face in the world. Edward was here. What the fuck do I do now?

The bell rang then, signaling the beginning of class, and I jerked my head up in surprise, twitching like I'd just stuck my finger in an electrical socket.

Edward Cullen laughed.

He _laughed_.

And then he spoke.

**A/N: I know… I suck. I'm just not sure where to take the conversation yet. I think it needs to deviate from the book a bit here. They definitely need to talk more. A stronger Bella is not going to take silence from this kid, no matter how head over heels she is.**

**Anyway, please review. It'll make my weekend. It'll make yours, too.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"I'm Edward Cullen. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to introduce myself last week."

He spoke two sentences to me and it was like I had never heard the English language before. Over the past week my memory of his voice inside that small office had faded, shifted, becoming more ordinary as I tried to talk myself out of loving this stranger. But it was so beautiful. Clear and smooth and bell-like and sending shivers of pleasure and excitement down my spine. I found myself staring at his lips, worshipping them silently for being able to produce such a sound. The corner of his mouth twitched and it seemed like he was waiting for something.

"You must be Bella Swan."

Oh. He had been waiting for me to introduce myself. That made sense. He introduced _himself_ and I just sat there like a moron with some sort of… but, wait. What? How did this angel know my name? Something was… off.

"I… yeah. H-how did you know that?" I stammered, forcing my eyes higher up on his face, trying to be polite. If I kept staring at his lips like that, he was going to think I was crazy. Which I was, but still.

He shrugged once, a light smile playing on his lips. A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Forks High is a small school in a small town," he dismissed. "Your arrival is big news around here. Everyone's been talking about it."

I thought about his answer. Of course that made sense. Even on that first day a week ago, he probably knew my name before I even sat down. But then I realized what had confused me. He had called me Bella. After a week of correcting people… and he hadn't been here. Hell, most of my teachers and half my lunch group were still calling me Isabella. How did he know…? I shook my head in moderate frustration, totally realizing that I was about to make a big deal out of nothing and look like an ass because of it, but going ahead anyway.

"No, no… how did you know to call me Bella?" I asked, looking at him, puzzled. "Charlie must walk around town calling me Isabella all day, because I keep having to correct people."

His expression flickered for a moment- what was that… panic?- before settling back into the bemused mask that he had clearly put on just for me.

"But you prefer Bella," he ventured, nodding at me as he said it, knowing it was true.

"Yes, but…"

"So what's the problem?"

He was right. What was the problem? There was no problem. But damn if it wasn't still bothering me. I felt my mouth opening, having no idea why I was obsessing over something so trivial, but was miraculously saved by Mr. Banner calling the class to order.

Apparently we were doing a lab on mitosis today. I had done the same lab back home in Phoenix in my AP class, and was grateful for the chance to show off to this boy. Maybe he'd need help with the slides, with the microscope. Maybe… maybe I could figure out a way to _touch _him. And suddenly, it was a mission. My mission. I _had_ to touch Edward Cullen. I didn't let myself think about how stupid I was behaving. I didn't let myself think about the fact that Bella Swan was so not this girl. Because he leaned forward then, grabbing the materials Mr. Banner had just handed out, clearly intending to slide them back over to his perch at the extreme edge of the table. He leaned forward, just inches from me, and I couldn't help myself.

My hand shot out, covering his.

And holy fuck did the world stop moving.

His hand was cold, freezing. I found myself wondering if he had been handling the snow outside along with the rest of the student body, but somehow I just couldn't picture him doing it. Fuck his temperature, though. It was cold, but I didn't care. All I cared about was that _charge. _My fingers buzzed where they had brushed his skin, my hand tingling, my brain useless. I had never felt anything like that in my entire life. It was as though my body had been asleep for seventeen years and, suddenly, it fucking awoke with a vengeance. My spine straightened, electricity coursing through it, and I suddenly found it much harder to breathe. My heart took off in a sprint, and I knew suddenly and without question that this boy would be the death of me. Because I would do anything to get that feeling back. Anything.

Blinking across the table with new eyes, I tried to gauge his reaction, read his face. I found no answers there. Only more puzzles.

He had removed his hand from mine the moment they touched, leaving the box of slides that he had been gripping behind. He thought I had been stopping him from moving the lab materials. That was fine. He could think that. He could think whatever he wanted. As long as he touched me again.

"Sorry," he said, lifting his eyes which had been focused rather fixedly on where his hand had just been, where my hand had replaced his. He looked at me across the table his butterscotch eyes burning into mine, and I felt myself blush for the hundredth time since class began. "You can go first, if you like."

First. Yes. I'd go first.

Edward Cullen.

There was something different about him. I held his gaze for another moment, greedily taking in his face, committing it to memory, before pulling the microscope in front of me and removing the first slide from the box. Focusing the instrument quickly, I glanced at the slide through the eye piece, discerning the answer immediately. The slides were of cells in different stages of mitoses, but they had been mixed up purposefully so that the stages were out of order. Our job was to determine the stages. Easy.

"Anaphase," I said pushing myself back from the microscope to look at him again. I nodded toward the lab packet in front of him, indicating that he should write it down. He didn't.

"Mind if I check?" he asked, reaching across the table and taking the microscope with such quick, graceful movements that I couldn't have touched him if I tried. "Anaphase," he agreed, after examining the slide himself, and proceeded to write the answer down in the most meticulously perfect handwriting I'd ever seen.

Annoyed that he had felt the need to check my answer, I hardened my gaze, willing him to feel my frustration. And then I thought about something. The something that had been rolling around in the back of my mind since I had seen him in the cafeteria earlier. I knew what was off about him. I knew exactly what was different.

"Hey, did you get contacts or something?" I blurted it out so quickly that it sounded more like an accusation than a question, but I was relieved that I had figured it out.

His eyes last week, the terrifying ones that had made me want to die where I stood, had been black.

Black.

And now his eyes were a beautiful ochre, golden and deep and expressive.

I saw his expression waver again, and was sure it was panic this time.

"No."

He said it casually but firmly, reaching for a new slide and continuing on with the lab, angling his face away from mine as he peered into the microscope, avoiding my gaze.

"Your eyes look different today," I continued, trying to get some sort of explanation out of him.

He ignored the comment.

I don't like being ignored.

We worked through the lab quickly, and while he didn't ask to check my work again, I insisted on checking each of his answers. I was trying to piss him off. Trying to get a rise out of him.

I began slamming things too hard and announcing answers too loudly. I was acting like a child. And I knew it. And I didn't care. I was angry and he damn well needed to acknowledge it, to deal with me.

Because he was lying.

And there was no reason for it.

His eyes were black last week and now they're gold and that doesn't just happen naturally.

We finished our lab long before the rest of the class and sat in silence, looking anywhere but at each other. Edward toyed with the box of slides that now sat in front of him, lifting each on out and rotating it slowly in his pale, perfect hands before placing it back in its place.

I found myself following the lithe movement of his fingers as they toyed with the delicate glass out of the corner of my eye. My breath catching as I began thinking about what I would like those fingers to do to me. My heartbeat stuttered, and I watched as his graceful hands stopped for a moment, frozen, before continuing with their idle game. It was just the slightest pause, but I noticed it. I noticed everything.

I shook my head and made myself look around the room, examining table after table. Mike and his partner had given up in exasperation and were trying to hide their textbooks under the table as they looked up answers. Smiling to myself, I noticed that there were a couple more tables mimicking this behavior. Mr. Banner just sat at his desk in the front of the room, absorbed in some sort of magazine, oblivious to the world around him.

"Were you excited about the snow today?"

Edward Cullen had spoken again.

I turned to face him, skeptical as to why he was talking to me again. His mouth was arranged in a friendly smile, but his eyes showed caution, restraint. I felt like he was hiding behind those eyes. Keeping himself at a distance. I leaned forward automatically to respond to his question, and he shifted back a bit in his seat, away from me. It was only a slight change in body language, but it spoke volumes. He _was _keeping himself at a distance.

"No," I responded, surprising myself. It was the first truly honest answer I'd given anyone since I'd moved here. Why had I answered him that way?

"You don't like the cold," he mused. It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"Or the wet for that matter."

"Good job moving to Forks , then," he chuckled to himself. "Why'd you move here anyway?"

"I just wanted to spend some time with Charlie," I responded automatically, dropping my eyes to my hands. I had been repeating that lie so often for the past week that it had turned into a reflex.

"No, you didn't."

"No."

"Why, then?" he prompted, leaning towards me a bit, urging me to continue.

His eyes found mine, and I knew that I would tell him the truth. I knew it because, just then, he let his guard down, he dropped his shield, and I saw in those deep golden depths that he actually wanted to know. He was genuinely interested. He _cared_.

"My mom got re-married a few months ago," I blurted out.

"So she sent you here." Again, it was a statement, not a question.

"No," I said, annoyed that he would think so little of my mother. "I _chose_ to come here. Nobody _sent_ me _anywhere_." I didn't like people thinking ill of Renee. I began fidgeting in frustration, twirling my hair around my fingers, biting my lip.

His expression was one of sheer confusion, and I felt a little vindicated. Welcome to my world, buddy. You confuse the shit out of me, too.

"I don't get it," he finally admitted, looking frustrated and angry and adorable. He said those words as though he'd never said them before in his life. It occurred to me that maybe he hadn't.

"Phil, my mom's new husband, is a minor-league ball player. He travels most of the year, and she just missed him too much. She was staying at home for me instead of traveling with him. It was making her unhappy. So I decided to come spend some time with Charlie for a while," I explained, biting my lip harder when I was finished.

"But now you're unhappy," he said, his tone saturated with surprise and confusion. "That hardly seems fair."

"So what? Renee deserves to be happy, too," I said, looking him square in the face, feeling myself blush as I got lost in his eyes for a moment. "And, in case you hadn't heard, life isn't really fair."

He nodded his head, acknowledging my answer. He seemed preoccupied by something and shifted his gaze past me for a moment, concentrating.

"What?" I asked.

"It's just… I find you very hard to read. That's all," he said, bringing his eyes back to my face and leaning back in his seat again.

"That's funny," I said. His eyebrows lifted in the most adorable way, asking me silently to explain the humor. "I just, I'm so… out there. Renee used to call me her 'open book.'"

"I'm normally much better at figuring people out," he said, defeated. "I'm having a hard time understanding you."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty damn complex," I said sarcastically, getting a small smile from him.

We both fell silent for a moment, trying to think of what to say next. I wanted to keep him talking, to keep talking to him. Confused as I was, I was actually _enjoying_ myself.

"You're in luck, Bella," he said quietly, looking at me, his eyes smoldering.

Too dazzled to speak, I willed my eyebrows to lift, mimicking his silent question from a moment ago.

"It's raining now. The snow's gone."

The bell rang, and he was gone. Out the door before anyone else in the room had even stood up. I stayed in my seat a moment, still basking in the memory of those eyes, that look. I didn't hear Mike Newton approach me.

"Cullen was pretty chatty today," he said stiffly. The boy was clearly jealous.

"I guess so," I answered dismissively, gathering my things, following him out the door, through the hallway, and out of the building.

Edward had been right. The snow was gone.

How did he know that?

Duh, Swan. He sits next to a window. He just looked outside.

But he hadn't turned away from me once.

His back was to the window the entire time.

I shook my head, falling into step next to Mike as we walked to gym together, listening to him complain about how difficult the lab was. The last thing I needed was something more to add to the Edward Cullen obsession pile. The look he had given me before leaving class was going to take up hours if not days of my time.

I needed to stop.

Needed to stop loving this boy whose actions confused me.

Needed to stop thinking about him.

But he was all I could think about.

Edward Cullen's eyes smoldering at me, gripping my heart with both hands and squeezing.

That look.

It was pure sex.

He owned me.

And I was happy about it.

**A/N: Hope you guys liked it. I got totally stuck with it yesterday and ended up re-writing entirely today. It's not that it's a terribly complicated scene, but it's such a turning point for the characters. I wanted to make sure it was plausible. Please let me know how I did. It's going to bug me all day. REVIEW.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So, I'm going to shuffle some events here to try to make everything more plausible. Forgive me if I'm taking too many liberties with the plot, as I really do want to stay faithful to the book… I just feel like Meyer's sequence of events was a bit off. Blasphemy, I know.**

**Also, I'm grappling with the introduction of Jacob Black. Chapter by chapter, I get closer to Bella's beach trip, and I'm considering moving it up chronologically. I just hate Jacob Black's character… the whole werewolf angle in general bugged me. Frankly, if I ever finish my re-imagining of Twilight and decide to do the rest of the series, I'm probably going to skip the second book altogether. Whiney Bella and too-mature Jacob just got super-old. I always just skip to the end when they're leaving Italy together. *sigh* Give me some ideas about how to deal with the Quileute situation, please, cause I'm struggling with it right now.**

**As always, Meyer owns Twilight and I'm listening to Say Anything right now. Every Man Has a Molly. Truer words were never spoken.**

**Chapter Eight**

The rest of the day dragged and jumped. We had moved on to badminton in gym, and I was grateful to have Mike as a partner again. He would make not so veiled inquiries about the nature of my conversation with Edward and my relationship with him in general, but his assistance with a racquet made the annoyance worthwhile. I didn't even have to move. He just played around me.

On the way home from school, I made a stop at Forks' one grocery store, grabbing some steaks for dinner and replenishing some staples. Charlie went through potato chips at an alarming rate, but I could clean out a box of Pop Tarts just as fast.

Walking the aisles, slipping things into the cart, I tried to figure out my next move with Edward Cullen. Grocery stores had always calmed me, and I found it much easier to concentrate in them than most other places. They always played ignorable music, and, while they were always full of people, you weren't expected to make conversation. Everyone just wandered around in their own personal bubbles, groping produce and buying junk food in spite of the fact that they'd regret it later.

Somewhere between the dairy case and the frozen foods aisle, I made a very out of character resolution. I would do research. I would talk to people. I would try to find out as much as I could about Edward and his odd family. And then I would make an educated decision. Then I would know what to make of him. Hopefully.

After getting home and putting away my groceries, I took the first step in my Bella-figures-out-Edward action plan. I opened my cell phone and, taking a deep breath, called Jessica Stanley.

"Hello?"

"Jess, hey. It's Bella." I plastered a fake smile to my face in spite of the fact that she couldn't see me. I hadn't been too chatty with her at lunch since that first day I'd met Edward, and I wanted to sound friendly.

"Bella?" she asked, clearly surprised by my phone call. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Oh, not bad," I said. "The usual, you know."

"Yeah," she said, uncertainly. "Ummm… did you want something?"

"No," I lied. "I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out or something. I'm bored."

"Oh…," she paused for a moment, trying to work out if I was worth spending time with. "Well, sure. I was supposed to chill with Lauren for a while, but she ended up cancelling on me. Did you want to come over here?"

"I was hoping you'd want to come to my house. I have some stuff to do around here before Charlie gets home. I was hoping you'd keep me company while I did it."

"Sure," Jessica said, struggling to keep the confusion out of her voice. "That sounds fine. You live on Olympic, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"Small town," she said simply. This was apparently everyone's explanation for everything today. "Anyway, I'll be over in about 20 minutes, if that's ok."

"Sounds great, Jess. I'll see you then."

"Bye." Click.

I snapped my phone shut and leaned back against the counter for a minute, trying to work out how I could get her to talk about the Cullens without being too obvious. The last thing I wanted was for her to know that I even had so much as a crush on Edward, let alone feelings. The entire school would know by the next day. I had to be tactful.

As it turned out, it was much easier than I'd thought. An hour into our hang out found us sitting in my room listening to some crappy pop music she'd had on her iPod and talking about everything Cullen. I hadn't even had to bring them up. She'd heard about my conversation with Edward in biology today from Mike Newton. She wanted to know everything.

I, of course, did not tell her everything, but I managed to impart the gist of the small talk in an impressively disinterested voice. I had never been this good at tact before, and mentally patted myself on the back for a job well done. She took nothing from the exchange that I didn't want her to, and the gossip tomorrow would be benign.

On the information front, Jessica did not disappoint. She knew everything. Every rumor, every scandal, and even threw in some speculations of her own. The Cullen kids had apparently moved to Forks a couple of years ago from Alaska. They lived in a mansion somewhere out of town which nobody had ever been to or seen, but she was sure it was enormous. They were very wealthy, drove beautiful cars, and wore expensive clothes. They weren't in any clubs, played no sports, and were generally uninvolved in all things extracurricular or participatory. They kept to themselves, spoke only to each other, and were generally seen as stuck-up and elitist. They went on sporadic weekend hiking trips with their adoptive parents, and had perfect GPAs. Their parents, Esme and Carlisle, had weird names and were rarely out socially, but when they were out, they were impeccably dressed and had flawless manners. They were basically a Stepford family.

Emmett and Rosalie were "like, totally" dating, as were Alice and Jasper. She thought Rosalie and Jasper were Esme's sister's children, and that she adopted them because their parents died. Edward, Emmett, and Alice were definitely blood siblings as well, but Jessica didn't know how they came to be adopted together. Their father, Carlisle, was a doctor at Clallam County Hospital. Some sort of surgeon.

"Edward and I dated once, you know," Jessica ventured, a proud smirk on her face.

This information surprised me, and I bristled a bit, not liking the idea of her being with Edward. My Edward.

"Really?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

"Yep," she said, matter-of-factly. "He asked me out when they first moved here. We went to Port Orleans a couple of times, but I just wasn't interested. He was just getting too serious about me."

"Serious, huh?" I felt my eyebrows rise.

"Yeah. He wanted to be exclusive, but I just wasn't ready for that kind of commitment. I like to keep my options open."

I just looked at her.

"We didn't really tell anyone about it, though, so that's just between you and me," she said, leaning forward, dropping her tone. "I don't want to hurt his feelings. He didn't want people to know that I dumped him."

"I understand. Don't worry. I won't tell a soul," I leaned forward as well, nodding.

We both sat back and stared at each other for a minute, her proud smirk still fixed on her face. I wanted her to leave. Now.

"Well, Jess, I have to start Charlie's dinner. Did you want to help me with that?"

I didn't figure her for a domestic kind of girl, and was hoping my offer would scare her off. I wasn't disappointed.

"Nah. Ordinarily, I'd love to, but I have a lot of homework to do. I had fun, though, Bella. We should do this again some time." Jessica rose from her position on my bed and started walking towards my door.

"Definitely," I said, smiling sweetly. "I had a great time."

I walked her down the stairs and out the door, returning her parting wave with what I hoped looked like enthusiasm. That was… interesting. I spun on my heel and let my body fall back against the hallway wall, sinking down to the floor and wrapping my arms around my knees. There was so much to process. So much to consider.

Edward had moved here two years ago. I felt closer to him because of that. He had been new in a small town, in a smaller school, just like me. He had dealt with the same pestering questions, the same inquisitive stares. He had started over. We had something in common.

His siblings' relationships… that had to be a lonely house for him. I never had any brothers or sisters myself, but the idea of having everyone I loved paired off while I sat in the corner by myself was soul crushing. I had always felt alienated from the world, not quite fitting in anywhere, and I thought that he must feel like that, too. He loved people, and was loved in return, but had nothing to hold on to. Maybe that was why he didn't like being touched, why he kept his distance from people. He had closed himself off so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain of being on his own in the world. But how could someone that beautiful be alone?

Edward Cullen and Jessica Stanley. Just thinking about that made me shudder. And I didn't know if I should believe her or not. I wouldn't put it past her to lie to make herself look good, and I remembered the comment she'd made on my first day at Forks about how Edward thought he was too good for the girls at school. What she'd said then and what she said to me today just didn't match up. But maybe they had dated and she had told me not to bother with him because she didn't want to see him date anyone else. Maybe she wanted him back. It was difficult to remove my feelings for Edward from the mix, so I couldn't tell if I didn't believe her because I didn't want to believe her or if I didn't believe her because she was lying. Whatever. I'd file that one away for later.

The clock in the living room chimed and I jumped to my feet, realizing that Charlie would be home soon and I still hadn't made dinner. One set table, two rib eye steaks, and a bowl full of mashed potatoes later, Charlie walked through the front door as if on cue, pausing to hang up his coat and holster before walking into the kitchen and dropping down into a chair.

"Hey, Bells. How was school?"

"Great, dad. Very educational," I said, smiling, arranging dinner on the table. "Dig in."

"Looks great, kid. Thanks."

Charlie grabbed his newspaper and began reading, looking up occasionally to cut his steak and grab seconds and thirds of the potatoes from the bowl in the middle of the table. I sat quietly, reading Wuthering Heights for the hundredth time with one hand and shoveling food into my mouth with the other. This was our nightly ritual. It was easier than trying to make small talk, and more entertaining than staring at each other. Like I've said before, Charlie and I aren't exactly talkers.

But tonight, I had a mission. Time for Bella-figures-out-Edward action plan part two. I closed my book, being careful to mark my page, and cleared my throat.

"Dad?"

Charlie's fork froze halfway between his plate and his mouth as he looked up at me in surprise. Generally, when reading time was interrupted, it was him who did the interrupting. This was a first.

"Yeah, Bells?"

"I was wondering if you know anything about the Cullen family? I was thinking about, er, inviting some of the kids to, uh…" Oops. I hadn't thought up an excuse for asking. Damn it all.

"You were going to invite them somewhere? Where are you going, Bella?"

"Oh, uh, my friend Mike is planning this big trip to the beach or something, and I was going to invite the Cullen kids… but I didn't know if their parents would let them go or not." Smooth.

"That's very nice of you," Charlie sat back in his chair, smiling at me. And now I feel guilty.

"Yeah, well, do you know anything about them?"

"Well, I know Dr. Cullen. He's a very kind, very gifted man. We're lucky to have him here, working at the hospital. He could've moved to a big city and made a lot more money."

"Why'd he move here then?"

"Oh, something about his wife preferring small towns. I agree with her. Small towns are much safer places to raise kids. All that crime in those cities," he tapped his newspaper with his index finger, as though illustrating his point. Charlie loved extolling the virtues of small town life to anyone who would listen, and I didn't feel like getting the speech again, so I cut him off.

"Yeah, no doubt," I nodded. "What about their kids, though? Do you know anything about them? And, uh, do you think they'd be allowed to go to the beach with us?"

"I'm gonna be honest here, Bells, that I was nervous about those kids when they first moved here. I mean, five adopted teenagers? I waited for them to mess up, but they didn't. They've very good kids. Very well-behaved. And smart, too, from what I've heard. I don't see why their parents wouldn't let them go with you guys, but even if they say no, it'd still be nice of you to ask. They don't go out much."

He smiled at me again, clearly proud that he had raised such a kind, considerate daughter. I felt like a tremendous bitch. I don't like lying to Charlie, and now I would probably have to talk to Mike about inviting the Cullens along on the trip. I smiled to myself, imagining his face as I asked about inviting Edward. Maybe it'd be a fun conversation.

Twenty minutes later, Charlie was in the living room watching some sort of sporting event on his favorite piece of electronic equipment, and I was in my room, staring blankly at a wall and idly listening to music.

There were decisions to be made here, and I needed to make them before I went to bed.

Edward Cullen.

I knew things about him now. Sort of. Life would've been much easier if I could just talk to him, just get him to talk to me, but our one conversation had been too odd and uncomfortable to imagine replicating the experience.

What was I going to do about him?

I was in love with him, and I was certain of that. He occupied every corner of my mind during every hour of the day. Just the sound of his name set my heart to galloping. I had never been in love before, hell, I'd never even had a crush before, but I was sure that this was it. This was too all-encompassing, too thrilling not to be love.

The question was: Did it make sense to love a person who didn't love me back? Didn't like me back? Jerked away at my touch? Took pleasure in making me uncomfortable?

I had never understood the draw of getting lost in unrequited love. Didn't get allowing yourself to obsess over a person who would never have anything to do with you. Growing up, I'd had friends with posters of movie stars and musicians covering their walls. They'd kiss their glossy faces before they went to bed at night. They knew everything about them and referred to them on a first name basis, reeling off favorite colors and foods and restaurants at the slightest provocation. I'd thought they were insane, laughed to myself as I'd leave their company. What a waste of time. What a waste of energy. They were kidding themselves. And now I was one of them.

There was no choice here. I had wasted an entire evening quizzing Jessica and Charlie. I had wasted my breath. I was wasting brain cells right now thinking about it. There was nothing to do about Edward Cullen. Nothing to do, because I would always be there, waiting for him to talk to me, bearing the hateful glances and living for the moments when he would drop his guard and I could look through his eyes and into his soul. I would always walk into the cafeteria and search for his face. I would always melt at the sound of his voice and swoon at the sight of his hands in his hair.

Unrequited or reciprocated, this was love. And there was simply nothing I could do but give in.

I hated myself. I had never been a confrontational person, but I had never been a doormat either, and now I was setting myself up to become one. I was setting myself up to get walked all over in designer shoes. I was giving myself permission to be treated badly, encouraging his erratic behavior toward me by sitting back and accepting it. I was setting myself up to be hurt, and hurt badly, again and again.

I hated myself, but I couldn't hate him. In one tormented week, in one strange conversation, I'd felt more alive than I'd ever felt in my entire life. Miserable, yes, but alive. The world had gone out of focus, but my eyes had opened for the first time. The chatter of my new friends was reduced to a buzzing in my ear, but I could hear music in ways I'd never heard it before. It was as though Edward had awakened me from a dream, shaken me out of my vapid teenage existence, and given me something to hope for again. The things that didn't matter fell to the wayside, and my brain was free to concentrate on the things that _did _matter.

Him. Me. Us.

Not that I believed that we'd ever be an us. But we mattered. And his mere existence had gifted me with something I'd never expected to achieve. Love. I loved him. And that made me important, too. I was a part of the most fundamental thing on the planet. I had joined the ranks of those in love. And yes, I'd let him walk all over me, hanging on every word and every glance. Yes, I'd hate myself for being this weak, this needy, this hopeless, this person who I'd sworn I'd never be. But, damn it all, I loved someone. And that made me special, too.

Edward Cullen.

You'll break my heart.

It's yours to break.

**A/N: I got a bit angsty there in the end, and I have a feeling there's a lot of editing to be done, but I just don't feel like doing it right now. I could really use a Beta. If anyone's interested, lemme know.**

**I'm not above bribery, so when I get 20 reviews, I'll throw some good, old-fashioned smut your way. You know you want it. ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hmmm… yeah. It's taking every last bit of will-power not to just hit Bella with the damn car and call it a day. This chapter is SO not coming easy. Apologies upfront. Just be glad I'm letting Edward save her.**

**Review. I command thee.**

**Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I just take pleasure in torturing them like a kid standing over an ant hill with a magnifying glass on a sunny day.**

**Chapter Nine**

Tuesday morning dawned in the loosest sense of the word possible. The sky was flat gray, an unending, glass-smooth ceiling of clouds. And damn was I tired. The previous night had been a torturous mix of restless dreaming and wide awake panic. I'd drift off for a few hours and wake up sitting bolt upright in bed, drenched in sweat. I swear it felt like someone was in the room with me, but all evidence was to the contrary. It was all in my head.

My morning routine flew by, and I was halfway to my truck, munching on a Pop Tart, when I lost my footing and landed square on my back, the air whooshing out of me on impact. Coughing up bits of Pop Tart and feeling around gently for any bumps and bruises, I sat up and looked around, trying to figure out why I'd fallen. I made the walk down this grass every morning, and this one of the few spots on the planet that I'd never fallen before. And then it hit me. Ice.

Fuck. Me.

There was ice on _everything_. It hung from every gutter in long, dangerous-looking spikes. It clung to the rooftops, making the houses lining the street look frosted and slick. And it was on the grass. Taking my revenge, I ripped a clump of grass out of the ground next to me, examining the blades as the frozen dew melted in my warm hand. This was my own personal hell. And it looked as though it had frozen over.

I walked, at a more deliberate pace, down the rest of the lawn to my truck, stepping off the curb and losing my balance yet again, barely managing to catch myself on the hood of the car. What was going _on_ around here? I looked down at my feet, annoyed. I was a clumsy person, but this was just getting ridiculous. And then it hit me. Again. Ice.

Shit. Fuck. Damn. Hell. Bastard. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Ice on the _road_? I didn't even know that was possible. How the fuck was I supposed to drive on a road that was covered in _ice_? How do people live in these places? I wanted my hot desert back. Now.

Gripping my truck, I carefully walked around to the driver's side door and climbed gingerly into the cab. There was ice on the windshield, of course, and I was forced to sit with the heater on until it finally melted enough that I could see. And, surprisingly enough, once I finally got onto the road and started heading for school, it wasn't that bad. The truck was actually a bit easier than normal for me to control. I turned, and the truck turned with me. Maybe this wouldn't be such an issue. Still, I drove slower than normal, half-expecting to spin out at any moment. Luckily, the moment never came, and a few minutes later I was pulling into my usual parking space towards the back of the student lot, safe and sound.

I gathered my things and stepped out of my truck with extra caution, planting my feet firmly and dropping my keys in true Bella fashion as I closed the door behind me. Bending over to pick them up, a glint of silver in the corner of my eye caught my attention, and, as I turned and realized where it was coming from, I mentally punched myself in the arm.

I'm a jackass.

There were chains on my tires. Of course. That's why driving had been so easy. That's why my car had responded so nicely. That's why there was no spinning out and dying. Chains. Duh.

I smiled to myself, laughing at my own naiveté, and then, suddenly, I was crying. Because someone had put those chains on my tires. Someone had woken up early and gone to extra trouble, gone out of their way, just to make sure I was safe. Charlie. Charlie had done this for me.

I let the tears take over for a moment. I couldn't remember the last time I had been taken care of like this. Renee was a wonderful mother, but she was always so frenetic, so out there… she could barely watch out for herself, let alone me. And Charlie was always so quiet. He looked uncomfortable every time I opened my mouth, like he was afraid of what I might say, afraid of saying the wrong thing in return. But Charlie had done this for me. He loved me and he was taking care of me. And I realized that, up until this moment, I had never looked at him as my father. He was just Charlie. We would visit and hug and talk nervously, but he had always just been Charlie. And now, with us living together, sharing a space and a life and a nervous exchange here and there, we were family. Father and daughter. I took care of him, and he took care of me. It was overwhelming.

A noise from across the parking lot brought me back to earth, and I immediately straightened my posture, shoving my keys into my backpack and feverishly wiping my eyes, praying that nobody had witnessed my emotional display. Keeping a hand on my truck for balance, I walked slowly towards the school, hoping my eyes weren't too puffy, my nose wasn't too red, looking up quickly to check for traffic before I crossed the lane between spaces, now buzzing with student chatter as everyone hurried towards the warmth of their home rooms.

Edward Cullen.

He was the first person I saw, parked directly across from my own car, and talking lazily to his siblings as he half-perched on the trunk of his silver Volvo. Of course he drove a nice car. Why wouldn't he? Everything else about the kid was perfect. This was just another golden brick in the already flawless wall.

I sighed, checking again for traffic, gripping the tailgate of my truck tightly, not wanting to let go of the only thing that was keeping me vertical right now, and then he looked up at me. His eyes met mine. Of course they did. Of _course_ they did. And then I did what I always do. What I always do when I feel those beautiful eyes on me. I froze. I froze completely, mid-step, mid-breath.

And then I heard it.

It sounded like a movie. Like a car chase. It sounded like tires sliding across ice, like brakes squealing in protest. There was a scream, and then another. It sounded like the world erupted around me.

Edward's gaze broke away from mine as he heard the noise, looking for the source. Curious, I looked, too, frustrated that any minor distraction would tear him away from me so easily. But then, it wasn't minor. It was big and metal and van-shaped and sliding out of control, beginning to spin out of control. It was sliding and spinning and I looked back to Edward, wondering what to do, sure he would have the answer.

His eyes were panicked, shifting from me to the van in such quick succession that I was dizzy trying to keep up. He looked terrified. He looked torn. And then I realized where the terror came from, and I was terrified, too.

The van was sliding and spinning towards _me_. It was going to hit _me._ It was going to _kill me_. And I couldn't move. I couldn't think. I couldn't react. All I could do was gape. All I could do was wait for it to hit me. Wait to die.

And then I was knocked off of my feet. Dead. I thought I was dead.

The most horrifying sound crashed over me. Metal. Crushing, grinding, scraping, bending metal. And shattering glass. And screaming. So much screaming. Screaming all around me.

And I was dead. I couldn't see anything. Just hear the screams. And feel the pressure, like steel girders crossing my chest, pinning my arms to my sides. Not pain. Just pressure.

Come to think of it, there really wasn't any pain. I felt dizzy and sick, but I didn't hurt. Death didn't hurt. That was nice.

The screaming got louder, people asking each other what to do, who to call, where to go.

And then I heard his voice in my ear, and I _knew_ I was dead.

"Bella? Bella, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"

Oh. Were my eyes closed?

"Bella, honey, open your eyes. Please open your eyes."

Who could argue with that voice? That beautiful voice. I was glad I had led such a boring life. Clearly I was in heaven.

The voice was so insistent, so concerned, that I naturally complied. I would do anything for that voice. Anything at all.

I opened my eyes, blinking against the bright terror that was unfolding around me. Glass everywhere. So much glass. It glittered cheerfully all around me, even on such a sunless day. And the screaming seemed to get louder, more comprehensible. I heard my name repeated over and over again in a dozen different voices. I heard Tyler Crowley's name. I heard "dead" and "unconscious" and "emergency" and "breathing" and "hospital."

I was so not dead.

I tried to sit up, tried to figure out the scene around me, but the steel across my chest wouldn't relent, so I looked down at it, trying to figure out how to get it off of me. And it was Edward. Edward's arms wrapped tightly around me, keeping me in place.

"Stay still, Bella," he whispered in my ear. "I think you hit your head."

It didn't hurt until he said it, but the back of my head exploded in pain then, and I sat back a bit, squinting against the dizziness that threatened to overtake me.

"See?" he asked behind me and, I swear to god, it sounded like he was chuckling to himself.

"I'm fine," I said stubbornly, struggling against his arms until he finally loosened his grip enough to let me sit up a bit and look around.

The scene was gruesome.

Edward and I were lying safely between my truck and the small two-door parked beside me. And there, at the foot of my truck, where I had been standing just a moment ago, sat Tyler Crowley's mini-van. Well, what used to be Tyler Crowley's mini-van, actually.

It looked as though it had wrapped itself around me truck. The rear door was destroyed, bent beyond recognition, windows shattered from the impact. That must be the glass around me. The rear of the van sat inches away from the compact beside me, blocking us from view but leaving the car unharmed. A part of me, the part that wasn't dizzy and horribly confused, found that sort of funny. All of this vehicular carnage, and the wind-up toy walks away unscathed. OK. So it wasn't that funny.

The front end of the car looked as though it had slammed into the tailgate of my truck. I could see that the windshield had shattered and the faint outline of what was probably an airbag, but my vantage point couldn't afford me much more than that. I shifted my legs, trying to get some leverage against Edward and his iron grip so that I could stand up and see if Tyler was alright. My right leg moved. My left leg didn't. And then I freaked out.

"Your leg's stuck, Bella." Edward had clearly noticed my attempted maneuver and the mild panic attack that had followed.

"Stuck?" I breathed. Stuck wasn't broken or paralyzed or gone, right? Stuck was just stuck. I could handle stuck. If it was really stuck. Was it really stuck? I raised my head sharply, lifting my torso without the aid of my arms and surveying my body frantically. It looked stuck. OK.

"…hope she didn't break anything… so stupid… probably shattered her ankle… I'll kill myself if… just get her out of here…"

I spun my head towards Edward, to look at him for the first time since I found myself in this position, trapped in his arms and listening as the world went crazy around me. His lips were moving quickly. So quickly that I couldn't be sure they were moving at all. But a steady stream of sound was leaving his lips. Barely audible. But audible nonetheless.

He shifted under me then, sitting me up slowly, gently carefully, so that he could climb out from under me. Crouching next to me, I watched his eyes survey my body, moving from my head to my feet, checking everything. And then his hands did the same, so gently that, had I not been looking, I wouldn't have realized he was touching me at all. They moved down my head, checking my neck, my arms, my wrists, my hands, my ribs… all the way down to my ankles as he check my right leg first, then my left. When he reached the left ankle, he froze, his eyes changing from worried to furious. His fingers probing more frantically.

And then he swore. So help me god, a word came out of Edward's mouth that I never thought I'd hear. It was so imperfect, so out of character, so common and low and everything that he wasn't.

"Fuck," he muttered.

In that moment, I forgot where I was and what was happening, and I loved him more.

Fuck.

I watched him as he cradled my ankle as best he could under the metal of the van. Watched as he lifted the hem of my jeans, seeming to check my leg for damage, clearly expecting to find some. He looked at me then. His eyes met mine. He looked at me and looked at me… and then, slowly and deliberately, he reached out his finger and touched me. Touched my bare leg. Stroked my calf with the tips of those beautiful fingers.

My body did things that no body should be allowed to do, especially when surrounded by screaming and horror and panic. My leg was on fire where he touched me. It rose up, over my knee, enveloping me in its delicious warmth. It spread up my body, filling my stomach lust and love and happiness and all things warm and breezy and wonderful. His eyes burned into mine as his fingers continued to dance on my exposed calf, making me tingle and smile and bite my lip. And then I blushed. Violently. I felt my face heat up. I tried to fight back, tried to stop the humiliation. But it was there. I closed my eyes out of embarrassment, knowing my face was now betraying every lustful feeling that had just coursed through my body. Knowing that he would know how childish I was, how silly to be so moved by something so paltry and innocent as the touch of a boy.

I closed my eyes. I heard metal scraping metal. I felt the pressure on my left ankle melt away, gasping in shock as the blood rushed back into my foot, making it tingle painfully. I heard metal on metal again. I opened my eyes. My ankle was free. My ankle was free, and I opened my eyes. I opened my eyes, and Edward was looking at me again.

Sirens. Sirens were blaring into the parking lot, making my ears ring and my head worse. And then there were new voices, louder and more authoritative than the ones who had been yelling before. Giving orders, making demands, shouting for tools and assistance and help.

"Edward, what… what happened? How did you get to me so fast? How did you knock me out of the way?" There were people coming, working on getting us out of here, and I suddenly knew that there was no way he was going to talk to me about this when we had an audience.

Everything was suddenly clear, transparent. Tyler's van was going to hit me. And Edward, Edward Cullen, the love of my life, saved me. He knocked me out of the way, pulling me down on top of him to cushion my fall. He managed to cross the parking lot in the blink of an eye and save my life. He saved my life. Edward Cullen. I had already known he was my angel. This cemented it.

"Bella," Edward began, cautioning me with his eyes, his face betraying nothing, "I was standing next to you the entire time."

Wait. What? No.

No.

Not possible.

I know what I saw.

No.

I shook my head and regretted it immediately. The pain was back, duller this time, threatening to make me dizzy again. I pushed it away angrily. I needed to focus. The voices were getting closer. They were starting to move Tyler's van.

"No, Edward. You were standing at your car. You were there. I saw you. I _saw_ you."

"Bella," he was warning me now, his eyes almost pleading with me, "I was standing next to you. Do you understand me? I was standing next to you and we were talking. I was right here. With you. Next to you." His face looked pained, panic-stricken, and I watched as the wall he kept around him dropped, revealing a vulnerable teenage boy under his calm, cool, and perfect façade. "Please."

"I want you to explain this to me," I began stubbornly, but his eyes begged me and, as I always would, I gave Edward what he wanted. "Fine," I snapped. "You were standing with me. But I expect an explanation."

He nodded in agreement, his mask back on, his guard back up, and I wondered if he was just placating me. He probably was. Not that it mattered. I'd do anything he asked me to and deal with the consequences later. I owed him my life. My heart. My soul.

"I think you sprained your ankle, Bella. I'm sorry I let you get hurt." He had whispered it so quietly that I wondered if I was supposed to hear it or not. His chin dropped to his chest and he stared ahead, eyes unfocused, seeing nothing.

"Edward, I…," but he looked at me then, his beautiful eyes flashing in warning, his lips hardening in a scowl. And so I stopped. I sat there next to my angel, concentrating on the noises around me, the grinding sound Tyler's van was making as it was being forced off of my truck, the panicked chatter of what had to be students and faculty in the parking lot. I concentrated on the glass like confetti around me, the shape of the clouds overhead, the lines of blue paint that had been scraped from Tyler's car onto mine. And then I concentrated on the pain in my head, a dull stabbing sensation situated at the base of my skull, and the throbbing agony that was becoming my ankle, which was definitely sprained, if not worse.

I concentrated on everything I could, trying to flood my mind with sounds and sights and sensations, painful or otherwise. I concentrated on the world so that I could not think about Edward. Edward and that look he had just given me. Edward and the vitriol in his eyes.

Edward Cullen saved my life.

And he hated me.

**A/N: I hope it was alright… like I said, it was very difficult to get through. I started and stopped a few times over the past couple of days. I have finals coming up, so updates may be a bit slower. I'm an inherently irresponsible being, though, and don't intend to study that much, so you probably won't notice a difference.**

**I will reiterate. You get a sex scene when I get 20 reviews. And I want CRITICISM dammit. Constructive or otherwise. I need feedback. I crave it. It's my band of heroin.**

**REVIEW.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I thought I was going to bed. Apparently I'm not. I feel guilty when I don't update. You people will be the death of me. Review, please, so my family will have something to read at my funeral.**

**SM owns these bitches… I just make em angsty.**

**Chapter Ten**

Hospitals. Unfortunately, these were places with which I was intimately familiar. I had been a regular at Phoenix Memorial, on a first name basis with most of the ER nurses and a handful of the attending physicians. Hospitals were a fact of life for me. It went beyond simple clumsiness with me. I was like a disaster magnet.

They had me on a bed a couple of curtains down from Tyler Crowley, and I strained my ears to try and listen while the doctor spoke to him quietly, explaining the extent of his injuries. I couldn't really make out specifics, but the doctor sounded friendly and cheerful, and I took that as a good sign. I hadn't seen Tyler when they loaded him into the ambulance and took him away. I'd still been trapped next to my truck with Edward. But from the worried conversations and panic-filled expressions around me as people had discussed what had transpired, I surmised that he must have looked pretty damn bad.

That could've been me. I could've looked bad, too. I would be dead right now if it wasn't for Edward Cullen.

Stop it, Swan.

Now.

I straightened my shoulders as I heard footsteps approaching my little cubicle from the vicinity of Tyler's bed. My breath hitched as long, white, marble fingers wrapped around the privacy curtain, drawing it back gently. Was it Edward? Had he come to explain? I took a few deep breaths, willing myself against my standard reaction to him. I was tired of freezing every time he looked at me. It didn't help my cause at all.

I felt my shoulders drop a bit as the face I had been waiting for turned out to be another face entirely. Damn. I had been hoping it was him. A bit too much, really.

"Bella," the face smiled warmly at me, "how are we feeling today?"

I hated that expression. I'd heard it so many times in my life. It reminded me of every trip and scrape and stumble and sprain and break I'd ever fallen victim to. But the man's smile was so friendly, so inviting and concerned, that I tried not to hold this against him. It was just what doctors said. They went to medical school for years just so they could utter those five hackneyed words hundreds of times a day.

I shrugged noncommittally, and the smile broadened. The man extended his hand to me.

"I'm Dr. Cullen, but you should feel free to call me Carlisle. It's so nice to meet you."

Cullen. Cullen. This was Edward's father. This was the man that adopted Edward, raised him since he was young, and brought him with him to Forks. This man was important. Very important.

"You too," I said shaking his hand weakly.

He went to work then, checking my vitals and gingerly examining my head, looking for god knows what kind of damage. His touch was as light as Edward's, and his manor put me at ease, making light small talk as he went about his business, poking and prodding me. He shone a light in my eyes, and asked me laughably simple questions, making sure I didn't have a concussion. Satisfied that my brain had made it out of the accident scot free, he turned his attention to my left ankle, now clearly swollen and bruised.

"Your x-ray came back fine, Bella, so nothing's broken." He flashed me a smile, and I was suddenly struck by how young he looked. His pale blonde hair was swept back neatly off his face, gelled into a sort of wave, and I repressed a smile, thinking it looked like his mother had combed it back for him, arranging it carefully for his first day of school. "It's just a sprain."

"Yeah," I said, nodding knowingly. "I get those a lot."

He found that funny and chuckled a bit before giving me the same instructions every other doctor has given me, though I was relieved that he put me into a walking cast rather than having me use crutches. The thought of me hopping around an icy campus, supported by two thin, metal sticks was not an appealing one.

"Dad," I heard an all-too familiar voice say from the other side of the room, his body shielded by the curtain, but his presence sending a chill up my spine nonetheless.

Breathe, Bella. No freezing. No choking. Be normal.

My pulse quickened in defiance.

"Edward," Carlisle looked up, his voice full of affection. His eyes twinkled as he watched his son approach, and it struck me then that he and Edward had the same eyes. They were like honeyed caramel, with deeper flecks of gold in them.

In moments, Edward was across the room and at the foot of my bed, speaking to his father quietly about how I was doing, if I had hurt anything, did I have a concussion. Like I wasn't even here. Like I wasn't sitting directly in front of him. Like he couldn't have reached down and touched me if he wanted. I was being ignored and infantilized by a boy who didn't even know me. What the hell was that?

"Dr. Cullen," I interrupted, childishly wanting to be acknowledged. "If there's nothing wrong with me, can I go back to school now?"

Edward turned to look at me then, but his eyes told me nothing. My heard gave a little flip but I didn't even care anymore. I just needed to get out of here, make my ears stop ringing, get back to class, and think about what had happened this morning. I wasn't even ready to talk about it. I just needed to leave. Now.

"School, Bella? No, dear, you need to go home and rest. Your father's waiting for you in the lobby." Carlisle seemed surprised that I would be so eager to get back to my classes after the day I'd had. I just wanted to be distracted, really, and that wouldn't happen if I was lying down in my room by myself.

I saw Edward snicker then, just the tiniest curl of his lip, a small sound escaping his throat. He was laughing at me.

"Is _he_ going back to school today?" I asked, jabbing an accusing finger at Edward.

"One of us has to go back and gossip about today, Bella, and I hardly think Crowley's in the condition to do that. That just leaves you and me, and, like my dad just said, you need to rest," his face was passive innocence, but his voice dripped with sarcasm and I had to fight the urge to lunge across the bed and smack some emotion into his expression.

That was a switch. Two hours ago, I was swooning over this boy, silently begging him to touch me, to wrap his arms back around me. He had given me that familiar, hate-filled expression and I had been awash with guilt and frustration that I had made him hate _me_.

But now, I didn't care if he hated me. He had saved my life, and I was grateful for that… but fuck him. He's going to be rude to me here? In a hospital? My ankle's the size of a grapefruit and my head is throbbing and my clothes are wet from lying on that damn ice-covered pavement, and he has the balls to talk about me like I'm not there? To stand at the foot of my bed without a fucking scratch on his whole perfect fucking body? To mock me? Fuck him.

"Well, what _did_ happen today, _Edward_?" I asked, tilting my head innocently, my tone venomous. His eyes flashed a warning to me, but I didn't care. You wanna be a dick? I'll be a dick right back. I turned my head to address Carlisle, but my eyes never left Edward's.

"Edward saved my life, you know. He pushed me away from the van just when it was about to hit me."

"Oh… that's… that's very lucky, Bella," Carlisle responded, eyes focused on my chart in his hands, suddenly finding something very important to write there. "I'm… I'm glad you were able to do that, son."

Edward leaned over to his father's ear, speaking inaudibly. Carlisle simply nodded once, flashed me a brilliant smile, and walked away, announcing he had to make his rounds.

Edward and I were alone then, and he walked around my bed locking eyes with me the entire time. If he wanted to have a staring contest, fine. I certainly wasn't going to break his gaze first.

"Bella," he whispered with desperation in his voice. Damn. I lost.

"What? What, Edward?" I spat, growing more frustrated by the moment. This boy had more mood swings than Renee, and I was getting tired of it.

"Bella, you promised… in the parking lot…," his eyes found mine again, begging me to do what he had asked.

"You promised me answers," I replied, losing some of my fire. It was hard to hate him when he looked this vulnerable.

"I can't give you answers right now, Bella. I'm sorry, but I can't. I want to so badly…" he trailed off but his eyes stayed locked on mine, trying to tell me things that his lips couldn't. "I just need you to trust me. Please, Bella. You can't tell anyone what happened. You just… Please?"

"How am I supposed to trust you, Edward? Do you have any idea how you act around me? You're either talking to me like nothing is wrong, or you're ignoring me. Or worse, you're looking at me like you wish I was dead. Is that what you wish, Edward? Just say it. Just say whatever it is you won't say. Get it over with. I can't _deal_ with this shit anymore."

I tried to stand then, tried to make it clear that I wasn't going to stand for this sort of behavior anymore, and promptly regretted it. The floor moved, zigzagging beneath my feet as a wave of dizziness overtook me, causing me to slump backwards, frantically reaching for the edge of the bed to steady myself. His hands were there, his eyes concerned, quietly telling me no, you shouldn't stand up, you'll hurt yourself worse.

I persisted, though, and merely maintained my grip on the bed frame, waiting for the floor to right itself again. When the world seemed solid, I straightened slowly, testing my balance, before letting go and turning to face him.

"Bella, I am so very sorry. So very sorry that you got hurt in all this. But, please, Bella, do you really think I would wish for your death?" There was hurt in his voice, hurt etched across every beautiful line of his face, and I felt guilty at my little rant. I had taken it too far.

"Edward, I—"

"Bella, look," he cut me off, "I promise that one day, if you still with to hear them, I will give you your answers. But I cannot give them to you now. All I can ask is that you please maintain the story we agreed upon. Please."

"You were standing next to me in the parking lot… we were talking…" I ventured, trying the words, seeing if I could bring myself to lie for him while I felt like this.

"Yes, Bella. Please."

"And you will give me answers…"

"If you still want them, yes. I just need some time."

I didn't think about his qualifier, then, though I probably should have. If I still wanted them.

"You admit that you were standing at your car?"

I looked at him. I needed him to own up to it, to say it aloud. I hadn't imagined a damn thing. I needed him to acquiesce.

"Yes, Bella. I do."

"Thank you, Edward. I'll give you your time. Just don't take too long."

A nurse approached me with a wheelchair, and Edward spun on his heel, gone before I could even register his exit. Dr. Cullen was apparently releasing me, and I was going home.

**A/N: So, I tried. I know this was short, but I **_**do **_**need to sleep at some point. I hope I've satisfied you crazy readers out there. I'm trying to butch Bella up a bit, and I hope I succeeded. I'll probably read this tomorrow and cringe, but I hope it worked for everyone.**

**Please review. Feedback helps me sleep. Well, feedback and tequila.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I have a blissfully study-free day today, so I'm gonna try to bang out a couple of chapters. As I said before, I'm going to rearrange some things to try and make Bella a little less co-dependent. And I've come to the decision that I hate the werewolf angle to the point that I'm going to ditch it entirely. No werewolves, kids. Sorry. I'll throw Jacob in, but vampires AND werewolves is just taking it a bit far for me. Plus, the wolves are jerks.**

**I'm listening to Total Revenge by Say Anything. Awesome song.**

**I don't own anything I'm about to write which, let's face it, is kind of depressing.**

**Chapter Eleven**

Safely in my room, door firmly closed against the outside world, I let the stress of the day overtake me, crying until my eyes hurt and my body ached. Tyler's van spinning, Edward staring at me in horror, my body thrown to the ground, my ankle pinned beneath the twisted metal, it was all there and vivid and terrible. It ended up being a good thing that I couldn't go to school. The last thing I wanted was to burst into tears in the middle of lunch which, according to the clock next to me, was where I'd be right now.

I took a handful of steadying breaths and ran the back of my hand across my eyes, rubbing the tears away. Enough crying. Enough. Reaching down with a groan, I carefully removed the ice pack from my ankle, propped up on pillows at the foot of my bed, and gingerly swung my legs onto the floor, reaching for my desk chair to help support my weight as I stood. There was only one thing on this earth that I wanted right now, and I would go through any amount of pain to get it. Damn did I want a shower.

"Charlie," I called, hopefully loudly enough that he could hear me through my closed door. He had taken the rest of the day off to take care of me, but I hadn't let him do much besides bring me ice and the occasional drink. Mostly he just stayed downstairs, watching ESPN and waiting for me to need something again. I heard footsteps on the stairs, and smiled to myself. Between putting the chains on my tires and staying home to take care of me, he'd done a lot for me to be grateful for today.

"Bella," Charlie said softly, knocking lightly on my door. "Did you call me, sweetheart?"

"I need some help," I called through the door, and he opened it slowly before stepping in and giving me a disapproving look.

"You shouldn't be standing, Bells."

"I know, I know… I just wanted to take a shower. I was wondering if you'd help me into the bathroom?" He looked a little scared, so I felt the need to clarify. "I can handle the shower part, dad. I just need some help down the hall."

His face cleared and he nodded, reaching forward to draw my arm over his shoulders as he held me up and walked me down the hall, taking me right through the bathroom door and seating me gently on the edge of the tub. I had the walking cast Dr. Cullen had given me, but I wasn't supposed to put any weight on my ankle for the first 48 hours. Knowing how difficult it was for me to get around, I once again felt like an idiot for trying to argue my way back into school today.

Charlie left, wishing me luck with an ironic look on his face and closing the door quietly behind him. I turned the faucet on the tub and waited for the water to heat up, cursing old pipes and older water heaters. When it was finally a little bit warmer than room temperature, I switched on the shower head and carefully peeled off my cotton shorts drawing my injured foot out of them so that they never touched each other. The shirt went with much less caution, though my head was still a bit sore, and I gripped the wall stepping into the tub like the floor was going to disappear at any moment. This would've been much easier with Renee. Safer, too.

With one hand clamped around the windowsill next to me, I let the water wash over me, sighing as the tension in my muscles melted away. I had had bad days before, but never quite like this. I thought about the hospital and poor Tyler Crowley, who I'd gotten a chance to speak with before I left with Charlie. He'd broken his arm in two places and had fractured a couple of ribs. His face had looked like a punching bag, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. And he had apologized to me. Apologized over and over and over again. And nothing I said would make him stop. Apology after apology. This kid looked like he'd gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson, and he was apologizing to _me_, with my silly ace bandage around my ankle and my headache.

We were still talking, well, I was still being apologized to, when my dad had burst through the door, calling my name once before spotting me and crossing the room. He asked over and over again if I was ok, reaching out a shaking hand to grip my shoulder, drawing it back when I winced. Damn was I sore.

Charlie had hovered over me for a good three minutes before he changed directions and started screaming at Tyler, repeating things like "you could've killed someone," and "you're lucky I don't arrest you on the spot." Tyler's one good eye had gotten larger and larger, his swollen mouth hung open in shock, as he listened to Charlie's rant. I'd really wanted to talk to Tyler about what had happened, what he had seen, but I felt so bad for him with Charlie screaming and carrying on, so I grabbed my father's arm, tugged sharply, lied about just wanting to go home and lie down, and forced him out of the room.

Poor Tyler. According to the nurse at the desk, he'd be stuck in that hospital for at least a week.

Bringing my mind back to the present, I turned my body so that my face was directly in the spray of the showerhead, urging the grit and stress and tension of the day to wash away, cleansing myself of what had happened this morning. I moved my free hand, up to my hair and combed my fingers through it, making the warm water saturate it further. I drew my fingers down my neck, across my collarbone, down my torso, rubbing each bit of skin lightly as though ensuring it was still there. I splayed my fingers across my stomach, flattening my palm against my bellybutton and pushing gently, thanking the ever-present knot for its absence at this moment.

Ouch.

I pressed again, a little harder.

Ouch.

Why would that hurt?

I pressed one more time, harder still.

I looked down, moving my hand out of the way.

Bruises. Six of them. Fanning across the center of my stomach.

I had been thoroughly examined in the hospital. I had had every inch of me poked and prodded, both clothed and unclothed. There had been nothing wrong except my ankle and my head. But now there were these bruises.

Confused, I shut the water and stepped cautiously out of the shower, grabbing a towel to quickly dry myself before I turned and faced the tiny bathroom mirror. I had to flatten my back against the wall to be able to see my stomach, but I could see it… the top of it anyway. And there they were.

They were fully colored, and I guessed that the hospital had seen them forming and didn't find them important. I clearly had no internal injuries, so they probably just made a note and moved on. It was just… six? Why six? And why were they shaped like that? Almost like an oval, with a longish one to the side of my navel, and five notably smaller ones spreading out on the other side. And where had they come from? Edward had knocked me onto my back, not my stomach. Nothing had landed on top of me and I hadn't bumped into anything today. Weird.

Tired of standing, I managed to get my shorts back on without incident and pulled my shirt back over my head, watching the marks on my body disappear under the white fabric.

"Charlie," I called, ready to return to my room. He dutifully appeared and helped me all the way to my bed, propping my ankle back up and wrapping it in a fresh ice pack before walking out and closing the door behind him, as requested.

I stared at my ceiling for a while, trying to figure out how to make this day go away, when my cell phone buzzed on my nightstand. I stared at it for a few seconds like it would explode, worried that it was Renee calling though Charlie had assured me that he hadn't told her what happened. Renee worried. A lot. It got old.

By the time I reached over and grabbed it, it had stopped buzzing, and I flipped it open to see who it had been. It hadn't been a call, but a text. In some sort of foreign language.

_hve hw 4 u, will brng l8r, hope u r ok_

Jessica Stanley. Homework. Great. She was coming by my house. Fabulous. Perfect. I'd have to pretend to be asleep when she got here.

_Thanks._ I typed back, and hit send. Dropping the phone on the bed next to me, I resumed my staring contest with the ceiling, resting my hand on my stomach, gingerly poking my bruises again.

And then it hit me. It was so obvious. _So_ obvious.

I lifted my head from the pillow and looked down my body to where my hand was resting. I lifted my shirt, pushing it up to expose the skin under my palm, stretching my fingers across my stomach as far as they could go.

I remembered being in elementary school and making a plaster case of my hand for Renee, pressing my little hand firmly into the white much before extracting it and letting it solidify in the window of the classroom. The teacher had helped us paint our names on them, and I ran home and gave it to her for mother's day. My hand in the plaster had made the same pattern as the bruises across my stomach. The same spacing, the same shape…

It was a handprint.

A handprint made by fingers much longer and more elegant than my own.

A handprint formed when someone pushed me out of the way.

Edward Cullen saved my life… and then he branded me.

I laughed quietly to myself for a moment, and then I wondered why I found it funny.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Someone poked me in the arm. Once, twice, then again. Poke. Poke. Poke.

"Bella, wake up," insisted a voice that definitely wasn't Charlie's. "Wake _up_."

I opened my eyes, wondering how anyone could have the audacity to wake me up from my nap on a day like today. As soon as I realized who it was, I wished I had kept my eyes shut.

"Jessica, go away." I emphatically clamped my eyes closed and turned my head to the wall, away from her.

"Oh good, you're up," she chirped, dropping onto the bed next to me and dumping the papers in her hand onto the floor. "I brought your homework." She gestured down.

"Great, Jess. Go away."

"But you have to tell me what happened. Tell me everything. I was in the office arguing with Mrs. Cope so I missed the whole thing. Come on, Bella. I was so worried about you."

Bullshit. If she was worried, she would've let me sleep.

"Tyler spun out and hit my truck. I sprained my ankle. My truck survived. The end."

"_Bella_," she whined. "I heard that already. Tell me the _details_."

"Just tell me what you want me to say, Jessica, so I can go back to sleep."

"I heard Edward Cullen was with you. I heard they found you with him by your truck."

Shit. Of course she'd heard that.

"Yeah," I said, not giving anything away.

"I heard he _saved_ you," she said, leaning in closer to me, her eyelashes fluttering excitedly.

Why couldn't Angela have brought my homework?

"He… pushed me out of the way, yes," I agreed, trying to keep my expression passive.

"_He pushed you out of the way_," she breathed, pretending to swoon. "Bella, that's _amazing_. Edward Cullen _touched_ you. I would've died."

I looked at her sharply and she made a face, realizing the stupidity of what she'd just said. If there's one thing Jessica Stanley's good at, though, it's bouncing back.

"Who told you what happened, anyway?"

"Mike did," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "But everyone was talking about it. They even brought in a grief counselor. I think I might see him tomorrow. It was such an upsetting day."

"Jessica, you didn't even see the accident."

"But I was so _worried_."

"Sure, Jess."

"I _was_. You have no idea, Bella. I had the worst day."

"Yeah, mine wasn't so great either," I muttered, not bothering to conceal my annoyance anymore. This girl brought self-centered to a whole new level.

"Anyway, nobody could get Edward to talk, so of course I wanted to hear it from you," Jessica continued, ignoring my snarky remark.

"Edward?" I asked, curious now.

"He came back from the hospital around fourth period, but he wouldn't talk to anyone. Just his family. Not that that's different for him, but _still._ People wanted to know…"

"Well, what did you expect him to do, Jess? Cry on your shoulder during lunch?"

"It's just… we all wanted to know what happened. He should have talked about it with someone. I even asked him in the hallway between classes if he was alright, and he just walked away from me."

"Well, he was fine. Not a scratch on him," I sighed. I'd sort of been hoping he would've told people what had happened out there. I wanted to know his story so I could tailor mine to match.

"So everyone saw… still," Jessica was clearly frustrated at his silence. Gossip was so much more fun when you had two sides to the story. She looked out my window in consternation for a moment, before remembering something and perking up again. "Lauren wanted to know if you saw Tyler in the hospital."

"Yeah, I did," I responded, happier with this line of questioning.

I described every detail of his injuries to her, along with my brief conversation with him in the hospital, leaving out the bit at the end when Charlie blew up at him. She drank in every word, asked no questions, and texted Lauren at the end of my story. Twice.

She stayed a little while longer, updating me on what I'd missed in class, and telling me that I could probably get away with academic murder for the next couple of weeks, and if she was me, she'd milk this for all it was worth.

"I wouldn't even bother with those," she said, gesturing to the papers that she had dumped on my floor. "Just tell everyone you're too upset or in pain or something to do school work right now."

What a nice girl.

"I'll keep that in mind, Jess," I said, propping myself up on my elbows. "Anyway, I'm really, really tired. Thanks for bringing that stuff by for me."

She smiled warmly at me, rising off of my bed and smoothing her hair with her hand.

"Anytime, Bella. I'm just so glad you're ok."

"Thanks, Jess. I'm fine. I'll talk to you later."

She nodded to me and let herself out, closing the door behind her.

She hadn't inquired about my health once.

**A/N: That felt awkward. Whatever. Hope nobody minds the bruises. I never thought it made sense that, if Edward was acting purely on impulse when he crossed the lot to save her, he treated her like an egg in the process. Besides, I plan on many more bruises in the future… the fun kind. ;)**

**Review, please. No lemons till I get 20 comments. You know the rules. Get cracking, kids.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Let's do this thing… thanks for the friendly reviews, btw. Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.**

**I'm listening to Better Than Ezra… it feels high school-y to me… this chapter is all about high school. :)**

**I don't own Twilight. There. I said it.**

**Chapter Twelve**

"Bella, hey Bella! Let me help you with that!"

I had barely stepped out of my truck and Mike Newton was already rushing across the parking lot to help me. It was like he had been waiting for me. I thought about it for a moment. He probably _had_ been waiting for me.

"Thanks, Mike," I mumbled, smiling weakly at him before handing over my backpack. I was generally not the sort who liked to be helped, but today I would take all the help I could get. Two days off my feet and out of school, and my ankle was still a mess. Balancing on the walking cast would be a lot easier if I didn't have fifteen pounds of textbooks and back-homework slung across my shoulders.

"Anytime, Ms. Bella," Mike replied, smiling warmly at me before giving me a jaunty little salute, making me giggle against my will. "I wasn't sure if you'd be coming back today or not."

"Yeah, I only had to stay off the ankle for a couple of days," I said, gesturing down to my enormous cast. He nodded and began walking slowly beside me towards the school, keeping an eye on me in case I needed any help.

We made it halfway across the parking lot before I stumbled, and he wordlessly linked his arm through mine, trying to help me balance. Instinctually, I wanted to pull away, but he really _was_ helping me stay upright, so I wordlessly accepted his help once again.

"So, are you alright? I mean, that must have been really scary…"

"Yeah. I, um, I'm fine. It all happened so quickly. I don't' remember much, really," I stammered in what I hoped was my most convincing voice. I had decided this morning that feigning shock was my best course of action against having to repeat myself over and over for the rest of the week.

"I'm just glad you're ok," Mike said earnestly, stopping me for a moment so that he could turn and face me. "I was really worried about you."

"Thanks, Mike," I said, looking at the ground, feeling my face turn red. "You shouldn't have worried, though. I'm really fine."

I made a move to continue our walk, but Mike's arm through mine kept me in place, and I certainly didn't have the strength or the balance to force him to begin moving with me. There was too much implied intimacy here, arms linked, facing each other… it made me uncomfortable.

"Look, Bella, I…"

"Bella!"

I had never been so relieved to see Jessica Stanley in all my life.

"Bella, welcome back!"

She was crossing the grass, hurrying over to Mike and me where we stood on the sidewalk. Her tone was cheerful and friendly, but her face told a different story. She saw Mike's hand on me, saw his eyes on my face, and was not happy about it. At all. Interesting.

"Bella, Mike," she breathed, coming to a stop right next to us. "How's it going, guys?"

"Erm… Fine, Jess," Mike said uncomfortably. Jessica had broken his focus, and now he looked embarrassed about whatever he had been in the middle of saying before.

"Oh, Mike, are you helping Bella to class? That's just so sweet of you. You're always so thoughtful and caring. Our Bella here could surely use all the help she can get today," Jessica fawned. I felt like that last remark had been a dig at me, but I didn't really care.

"Yeah, Mike has been a real sweetheart this morning," I said, looking at him gratefully. Jessica's face contorted a bit at the smile that crept across Mike's face as I called him a "sweetheart" and I suddenly felt the urge to mess with her a little bit more. "Thanks again, Mike, really. I can't say thank you enough." I moved my free hand to his forearm, giving it a squeeze before letting my hand drop.

Her face was priceless. I wished I had a video camera so I could replay this moment over and over again. But then I looked at Mike's face and knew I had gone too far. All he had done was carry my backpack and help me walk, and I had squeezed his arm and thanked him as though he had just saved Gotham City from the Joker. He looked ecstatic. Shit.

"Anyway, we should probably get to class," I prompted, my eyes scanning the campus as though I was trying to find someone, looking anywhere but at Mike or Jess.

I saw him of course. Edward. And my day got a little more complicated.

He was not ten feet away, standing in the middle of the same sidewalk that my little soap opera was playing out on. His hands were at his sides, balled into familiar fists, and his eyes bored into mine, a mixture of anger and confusion and… hurt. Hurt? That was weird.

I met his glare and gave him a small smile. Too subtle for anyone to notice unless they were looking directly at me. He _had_ to notice, though… he noticed everything.

Still, he just looked at me, watched me, seething.

"Let's go, Bella," Mike said, tugging at my arm, unaware that I was looking at anyone. "We'll be late."

I let him lead me away, keeping my eyes on Edward until I couldn't anymore.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The morning played out much like my first day of school here at Forks. People were staring again, and it didn't help that I was late to pretty much every class because of my cast. I didn't get in trouble, of course, but it meant a very obvious entrance into a quiet room full of curious eyes. I wasn't a big fan.

Still, I made it to lunch without incident. Mike insisted on getting my lunch for me, sitting me down at the usual table and taking my order and trotting off towards the lunch line like he'd just won a new car. I'd never let him touch me before, and it was clearly going to his head. But he had been so helpful all day, waiting for me at the end of every class, carrying my bag and keeping me upright, never complaining about my snail-like pace and smiling at the steady stream of whispered profanities that issued from my lips as we walked. My ankle _hurt_. I was starting to wish for crutches.

I was sitting at our table with my head in my hands, wishing for a stack of pillows and an ice pack, when I felt someone sit down next to me.

"How's your ankle," a velvet voice asked quietly, causing my head to jerk up violently in surprise.

Big mistake. Ouch. The cafeteria got blurry and I felt my body sway. Suddenly my left side was heaving than my right, and I began to slide from my seat towards the floor, helpless against the vertigo that now consumed me. Stupid fucking head injury.

And then a pair of cold hands were around my waist, keeping my body upright.

"Bella," the voice said more urgently. "Bella, are you alright? Do you need a doctor?"

"I'm fine, Edward. Just…," I swallowed hard, and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to will my equilibrium back. "I'm just dizzy." My head rolled forward as though to illustrate my point.

"Come on, you shouldn't be in here right now," the voice said, bringing me to my feet.

"Edward, I…," I began to protest, but it was too late. He already had me up and halfway to the door, his arm around my waist, my backpack over his shoulder. He supported me so that I bore none of my own weight, and, even through the fog in my brain, I marveled at his strength.

He set me down gently a few seconds later, and after a couple of steadying breaths I realized we were outside. I inhaled the fresh air gratefully, feeling it clear my head, and was able to sit upright on my own after a minute, though I didn't say anything. I liked his hands around my waist keeping me steady.

"Are you alright?" he asked me quietly, his eyes searching my face.

"Edward, I'm sorry… I'm just so confused. What the hell is going on with you?" I hadn't meant to say it like that, to lay it all out, but the boy had just carried me out of the lunch room for god's sake. What the fuck was that about?

"You looked like you were in pain," he explained. "I was concerned."

"You were concerned." I pronounced each word carefully, turning them over in my head as I repeated them. Concerned. "What were you concerned about?"

"Well, you know, you didn't come to school yesterday. I was worried. And then I saw you almost fall again this morning in the parking lot—"

"Mike helped me," I interrupted. "He was there. I was fine."

"You… you didn't look fine. You haven't looked fine all day. You keep losing your balance and holding your head and sighing and swearing..," his voice had dropped to the point that I was pretty sure he was talking to himself. Trying to figure out why he had been worried about me.

"How do you know how I've been acting today?"

"I… I watched you. I've been… watching you. To make sure you're alright," his eyes met mine briefly before dropping to his lap in… shame? Embarrassment?

Wait. He's been watching me? This was getting old. Fast.

"Edward, I'm fine. I've been fine. I've been hurt worse before. Trust me. Next time, if you're so damn worried about me, why don't you just come up and ask me? Don't just follow me around campus all day and kidnap me in the middle of lunch. Mike's got to be so—"

"Mike. Mike Newton," he spat.

"He was getting my lunch for me so I didn't have to wait in line. He's carried my bad around all day and gone out of his way to help me balance on my cast. He's been taking care of me. And you just swoop in and—"

"I see." His eyes were furious.

"Are you going to explain to me how you got to me so fast that morning?" I asked, tired of his Jekyll and Hyde act.

"No."

"Then I'm leaving," I said, reaching across him for my backpack. He grabbed my arm, gently, but with an air of warning, and looked me square in the eyes.

"You shouldn't be friends with those people."

"Look, Edward, when you're ready to tell me what happened that morning in the parking lot, I'll be glad to listen, but, until then, I can't handle these mood swings anymore. This morning you looked furious with me. You didn't even say 'hi.' And now you're telling me how worried you've been and you're carrying me out of the cafeteria like some child. I've had enough. 'Those people' have been taking care of me today. They talk to me and smile at me and don't look at me like they want to kill me. I owe you my life, and I'll always be grateful to you for what you did. But I've kept my end of the bargain; I haven't told anyone the truth about how you saved me. And until you keep up your promise as well, I really don't care to talk to you anymore. This is bullshit. You don't get it both ways. So quit with the damn mood swings or leave me the _fuck_ alone." I tried to twist my arm away from him but he held on for a couple of seconds longer before releasing me.

"Bella," he started again angrily, "those people…"

"Fuck off, Edward," I spat, grabbing my backpack and rising shakily to my feet. "I have no reason to listen to a damn word you say. If you're really so worried, so concerned, if you really _care_ so much, why don't you _prove_ it. Act like a fucking human being. You don't just get to barge into my life whenever you feel like it. It's _my_ life. _I _say who's allowed in it. And right now, you're not welcome."

I turned and stormed away as best I could in that damn cast, nearly tripping a couple of times but mercifully making it back to the cafeteria in one piece. Lunch was halfway finished by the time I got back to my table, my friends giving me questioning looks but not saying anything. I gave everyone a weak smile before digging in to the food on the tray in front of me.

"They kind of picked at everything while you were gone. Sorry," Mike said, leaning across the table towards me. "We didn't know if you were coming back. Lauren said she saw you leave with Cullen…"

"Yeah, I had asked him to review his bio notes with me before class," I said dismissively.

"Oh, well, you could've asked me for mine." Mike was clearly relieved.

"Well, he's my lab partner and everything," I said as though that explained it. Mike seemed to accept the answer, though.

The rest of the period flashed by. Lots of chatter about the accident, but it had been made obvious that I had no interest in discussing it with anyone, so I was pretty much left alone. Mike would look at me and smile occasionally, but Jessica kept asking him questions and begging him to tell her stories, so his attention was elsewhere. She clearly liked him, and he clearly liked me. I'd have to figure out how to handle this.

Edward wasn't in biology. I hadn't expected him to be. I didn't see him again until Mike walked me to my truck at the end of the day. He was standing next to his Volvo, seemingly waiting for his siblings to appear, and his eyes stayed on me the entire time. I didn't look back at him. I just walked next to Mike, thanking him for his help today and climbing into my truck.

I was just about to close the door and turn on the engine when Mike's hand stopped me. It covered my own on the door handle and kept it there. It was intimate and serious and made me very uncomfortable. And I was pretty sure what was coming next.

"Hey, Bella, I was just wondering," he began confidently.

"Yes, Mike?" I asked, looking at Edward out of the corner of my eye. Could he see Mike's hand on mine right now? His posture told me everything. Yes. Yes he could. And he was pissed.

"Would you maybe want to get dinner with me on Friday night? Or we could see a movie? Or both. Whatever you like," he finished, dropping his eyes to the asphalt and waiting for my answer.

I turned my head and looked directly at Edward. His hands were in tight fists, his jaw was clenched… it looked like he was holding his breath. He did not like Mike touching me, that much was clear, but it also seemed like he had heard Mike's question. He was too far away for that to be a possibility, but his behavior implied otherwise.

I thought for a moment. I wasn't interested in Mike romantically, but he had taken very good care of me today. He was a cute teenage boy. He was relatively popular and he always had a smile for me. He liked me. Why not?

"Sure, Mike. That sounds great. Let me give you my phone number," I gave him a half-smile and repeated my number twice as he entered it in his cell, looking like he'd just won the lottery.

"Great, Bella. Friday night, then," he reminded me, grinning so broadly it looked as though his cheeks might crack from the strain.

"Friday night," I confirmed. "See ya, Mike."

I closed my door, and turned the key, pulling out of my space and backing up just a bit further than was necessary. I pulled my truck so far back down the lane that I was face to face with Edward Cullen. Clutching forcefully, I angled my head in his direction, smiled sweetly, and shifted into first gear, eagerly watching his reaction in my rearview mirror as I drove away, leaving him behind.

His hands clenched and unclenched, the muscles in his arms twitching. His eyes followed my truck as it turned out of the parking lot, down the street, and out of sight.

I had a date with Mike Newton. And Edward Cullen was _pissed_.

**A/N: Sorry, guys. I know a lot of people hate Mike, but he's just a teenager. And Bella's hot. A hot girl dates, no matter how angst ridden and unusual she is. Review, though. I'd like to know how people feel about this.**

**And coming up next… a Mike and Bella date. : )**


	13. Chapter 13

**Twilight belongs to SM. Blame her.**

**Chapter Thirteen**

Four girls, one room. Bad idea. The smallness of my bedroom made things difficult enough, but the constant giggling and whispering and hair twisting and text messaging was becoming increasingly hard to bear. Ugh.

I walked back into the room, modeling yet another outfit. Jessica and Lauren had brought over two duffle bags worth of clothing for me to borrow, and insisted on seeing me in every outfit before they'd help me choose. Angela had just handed me a folded up piece of paper reading: _I'm here for moral support. The safe word is "banana." Use in case of emergency._ And that is why I am officially in love with Angela.

"That one's cute," Lauren offered, nodding. "But I think your boobs are too small to really pull it off."

This was the fifth backhanded compliment I'd received in as many outfits. The first one had hurt. The second one had stung a bit. By now, I could give a shit. I was just glad to be borrowing someone else's wardrobe, as I was running low on clothes.

"Yeah," Jessica agreed, "I think we need to see another one."

Angela just looked at me seriously from her spot at the corner of my bed. Without the hint of a smile, she mouthed the word "banana." Seriously, without that girl, Charlie would've had a double-homicide to deal with when he got home.

"No problem," I said lightly, collecting some more clothes from the pile on the bed. "I'm not going to try on any more jeans, though. None of them fit me correctly. I must have a smaller ass than you two."

Angela's hand went to her face to hide her smirk, while Jessica and Lauren just looked at me wordlessly.

"I'll be right back," I chirped, waving a couple of shirts at them and skipping out of the room.

I appreciated their help, I really did. But I hadn't asked for it. Yeah, I had a date tonight, but I hadn't been planning on putting that much effort into it. Well, that is until I saw Edward purposefully knock Mike out of his way during biology this afternoon. That was priceless.

I closed the door to the bathroom and shrugged another top over my head. A dark blue, boat necked sweater that sort of belled out at the hem and the sleeves. It was perfect. It was simple. It made my neck look long and elegant and managed to make my complexion look a bit less Casper-like. Fabulous. Sold.

I marched back into my room triumphantly and was met with applause from Angela. The other two smiled sweetly and hit me with, "Yeah, that's probably the best you can do."

"So, where's he taking you, Bella?" Jessica asked casually as she went to work on my makeup.

I felt a little guilty, as she as clearly interested in Mike. But, then I remembered that she was Jessica Stanley, and my guilt eased up considerably.

"He mentioned something about a movie in Port Angeles. I don't know what we're seeing, though. He said he wanted it to be a surprise."

"Probably that new slasher flick," Lauren snorted behind me. She'd been meticulously curling my hair for the past twenty minutes, and I was beginning to worry that maybe I shouldn't have insulted the size of her ass before I'd let her go to town on my scalp.

"Yeah, he's such a _guy_," Jessica said, as though it meant something.

"It doesn't matter what they see. I'm sure Bella will have a great time regardless," Angela offered, smiling at Jessica's frown as she said it.

"Yup," I agreed, trying not to move, lest I find my eye gouged out by a mascara brush.

"Whatever," Jessica muttered, straightening up in front of me. "You're finished."

I looked at her questioningly.

"Your makeup, I mean."

"Oh. Thanks."

"I'm done back here, too, Bella. Go check yourself out."

Two pairs of hands attached themselves to my shoulders and guided me to the mirror on my dresser.

"Tada," Jessica and Lauren called out at the same time, flourishing their arms like car show models.

"Wow. Thanks, guys. Really."

Really.

They had done an amazing job. My normally flat brown hair now flowed in elegant waves to my shoulders. My brown eyes looked large and shimmery and were framed by perfectly curled lashes. My cheeks were rosy and my complexion even. I looked great.

I looked over to Angela, still seated on my bed, and she flashed me a thumbs up.

"Jessica, my eyes look amazing. You'll have to tell me how you did that," I said, turning to her in earnest. "And Lauren," I turned to face her now, "my hair… I have no words."

"No problem," Jessica said lightly. "All it takes is a little talent."

"And a lot of hard work," Lauren added, smiling tightly.

Yeah, yeah. I get it.

I looked at the clock on my desk and looked out my window. It was 5:45. Mike would be here in fifteen minutes.

"Hey, Angela, what's your favorite desert?" I asked.

"Chocolate ice cream," she responded, smiling innocently. "What's yours?"

"Bananas foster," I said with a conspiratorial smile. She grinned broadly and nodded.

"Yeah, makes sense," she said, glancing at the clock. "Anyway, guys, I need to get home to dinner or my mom's gonna kill me. Bus is leaving, Jess, Lauren. Let's go."

Remind me to buy Angela a present.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Mike Newton isn't such a bad guy. The problem is, he's not such a great guy either.

The drive to Port Angeles had been an uncomfortable one, but I hadn't expected anything different. An hour-long drive would've been uncomfortable with _any_ boy, and he tried his best to keep up the small-talk. We abused our teachers and chatted idly about our friends. He told me about his parents' camping supply store in Forks, and he confided that he secretly hated all things hiking. We laughed a bit and joked a bit and the awkward silences were covered nicely by the radio, so it really wasn't so bad.

When we walked up to the box office at the movie theater, I knew we'd have a problem. His surprise movie was a romantic comedy, and he grinned at me proudly when he bought the tickets. He clearly felt that his movie choice would appeal to me, and was so enamored of his selection, that I didn't have the heart to tell him that I absolutely _hated_ romantic comedies. On top of that, I _hated_ the principle actors in the movie. And I'd _hated_ the book it was based on. Still, I smiled and thanked him for the ticket, smiled and thanked him again for the popcorn and soda, and smiled at him once more once we chose our seats in the crowded theater.

"So, how's the leg doing," he asked, gesturing to my cast.

"A bit better," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. "It's still pretty sore, but I should be able to take the cast off in a couple of weeks."

"Awesome. That's perfect timing. That's when we're going to the beach." He actually raised his hand and gestured for me to high-five him. This poor boy didn't stand a chance.

We chatted idly about First Beach and surfing, what the weather would be like and who was invited. He told me he had "mad skills" on a long board, and I cringed a bit at his preening. Mercifully, the lights dimmed a couple of minutes later, and I was safe from his posturing. For now.

The movie was… good lord was it bad. Stupid jokes and bad music and corny dialogue. The hero and heroine kissed at the end, and there was a smattering of applause from the audience. Really? Really?! I looked around, trying to figure out why _anyone_ would clap for this garbage, and was shocked when I found that nearly every woman in the audience was crying. Seriously.

The lights came up and Mike looked at me eagerly, probably hoping to comfort me through my tears. He was out of luck.

We walked out into the parking lot, stretching lightly from being seated so long, and Mike asked if I was interested in grabbing a late dinner. Sure. Why not?

"There's a good Italian place a few blocks that way," he said, gesturing up the street. "Or if you want something else…"

"Italian sounds great, Mike. Is it close enough to walk?"

"Well, yeah… it is. What about your cast though, Bella?" he asked, pointing to my leg. "Wouldn't we be better off driving?"

"Nah… I don't want to sit down again just yet. I'm really cool with walking if you don't mind."

He shrugged, looped his arm through mine, and began down the street, telling me how much he enjoyed the movie.

We had walked about four blocks when I noticed something wasn't right. First of all, we seemed to be heading away from downtown, not towards it. We were surrounded by warehouse-type buildings, and the street lights were beginning to thin. I paused for a moment, looking around, before tugging on Mike's sleeve.

"Ummm… Mike? Are you sure we're going in the right direction?" I extended both arms and gestured around us, illustrating my point.

"Yeah. Totally. I've been to this place a hundred times. Don't worry, Bells. I've got you covered." He smiled cockily before grabbing my hand and pulling me forward, resuming his monologue about why Mr. Banner should let us be lab partners. I let him drag me another block before I stopped him again.

"Mike, this isn't right. Really. We should turn around." I turned to walk back the way we came, but his hand reached out and grabbed me yet again.

"I said I know where I'm going, Bella. Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it? Mike, this is just stupid. This is not an area you _walk_ through. It isn't safe."

And it didn't look safe. It was dark and too far away from the lights and the crowds of the movie theater. The only people near us were patrons from a dive bar up the street, and I just wasn't comfortable. I felt exposed. I felt vulnerable here.

"Don't worry, Bella. I'll keep you safe," he cooed to me, reaching over to brush his hand across my cheek.

He thought he was being chivalrous. I thought he was being an asshole.

"Hey! Is that guy bothering you?" a gruff voice yelled across the street.

I looked towards the voice and saw a large man in a plaid shirt crossing the street towards us. From the way he was walking, it looked like he was drunk. Awesome. Perfect. Fabulous.

"We're fine," Mike called, tersely, tensing up beside me.

"You alright?" the man slurred, continuing on his path until he was practically standing on top of us.

"I said we're fine," Mike repeated quietly.

"I wasn't talking to you, kid," the man said, poking Mike in the chest. He turned to me then, leering. "You should ditch this guy and come get a drink with me, pretty girl."

"Let's go, Bella," Mike said, stepping around the man and tugging on my hand.

"Jessie! Hey, Jessie!" another voice called.

When it rains it pours.

"Whatcha got there, Jessie?"

"I found a pretty girl," the man named Jessie replied, staring me down. "She wants to have a drink with us."

"A pretty girl? Well, bring her along, then," called the other voice.

"Let's go, pretty girl."

The man named Jessie grabbed my other hand, the one Mike was not holding. He grabbed it, and Mike stood there. Stood there. He looked panicked. He looked like he didn't know what to do. And then I knew that he _didn't _know what to do. And I was terrified.

"P-please let go of my hand," I said. "Let go of my hand now."

"We're gonna get a drink," Jessie said. He moved his hand up to my arm and gripped it forcefully. "We're gonna get a drink _now_."

"Mike," I whimpered, looking to him for help.

And Mike stood there.

"If you have any amount of affection for that hand, you will remove it from Isabella immediately." That voice. I'd know that voice anywhere. So beautiful. So impossibly beautiful.

I froze. I was hallucinating. I was scared and I was imagining things. There was no way he was here right now.

No way.

"Do not make me repeat myself," the beautiful voice growled.

"Mind your own business, buddy," Jessie said, gripping my arm tighter. "This is between me and my girl here."

The beautiful voice was not happy about that.

It was over before I knew what had happened. Jessie's hand was removed from my arm. Forcibly. I heard bones snap and I heard yelps of pain. And then Jessie was lying in a heap on the sidewalk, writhing in pain. Jessie's friend crossed the street and attacked the beautiful voice, and suddenly he was on the ground next to Jessie, body twisting in pain.

"Cullen," I heard Mike say gruffly. "Thanks, man."

Cullen. Mike had heard the voice to. Mike had said his name. I looked up. And there he was.

Edward Cullen.

My own personal angel.

"Newton, go home." Edward looked furious.

"S-sure… come on, Bella." Mike tightened his grip on my hand and turned to leave.

"You are not taking her anywhere, Newton. Your date is over. Leave. Now."

I looked from Edward to Mike and back again. I looked at the men on the ground.

"Go home, Mike. It's fine. I'll see you on Monday," I said quietly.

"Bella, I drove you up here. I'm going to take you home. This is silly," Mike protested. He shouldn't have done that.

"You arrogant child. You nearly got her killed. You stood there and did nothing while that drunk harassed her. You let him put his _hands_ on her. You will turn around and walk away, or you will find yourself lying on the sidewalk just like them," Edward spat, gesturing behind him.

"I had the situation under control, Bella. He doesn't know what he's talking about…"

"Goodnight, Mike," I replied curtly. "Go home."

He looked at me furiously, opening his mouth as if to say something. I dropped his hand and gave him a gentle shove, nodding towards the movie theater and his car.

"Goodnight, Bella." He thrust his hands into his pockets and walked away. Quickly.

"Bella," Edward breathed, moving closer to me. He brushed his fingers over the spot where Jessie had grabbed me and looked into my eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I'm… yes," I stammered, not knowing what to do, what to say.

He had saved my life twice. Appeared out of nowhere twice.

"You're sure?" he asked, moving his fingers under my chin, gently tipping it up so he could look into my face.

"Yes, Edward. I'm fine." I reached up to his hand where it rested under my chin and wound my fingers through his, tingling at the coolness of his hand and the hardness of his skin. "Thank you."

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes burning into mine. Without asking my brain for permission, my body took a small step forward, wanting to bridge the space between us. And then he dropped his face towards mine, parting his lips. His hand brushed lightly against my cheek, and I leaned into the touch. His eyes were terrified, begging me to stop him. But I couldn't. I wouldn't.

I licked my lips in anticipation, craning my neck to draw my face closer to his, my body on full auto-pilot.

"Bella," he breathed, and I moaned as his delicious scent washed over me. "Bella…"

I felt a breeze and suddenly he was gone. His face, once inches away from my own, was no longer in front of me. His hand had left mine. I felt the loss before I felt the humiliation.

"Let's go, Bella. We shouldn't be hanging around in this neighborhood."

His voice was farther away than it should have been, and behind me for some reason. I turned to face him, unsure of what had just happened.

"My car's just around the block. Let's go." He gestured down a side street.

"Edward," I began, my voice wavering, betraying me.

"I know, Bella. I know. Please, let's just go."

I didn't move. I just looked at him. An angel sent to torture me.

"Bella," he tried again, stepping towards me and giving me the same look he had given me that morning in the parking lot. The look that had made me say yes to him. Not this time.

I didn't move.

"Fine," he said walking swiftly to where I stood and lifting me into his arms as though I weighed nothing, holding me away from his body. "You don't want to move, you don't have to. But we're leaving one way or another."

**A/N: I know it got weird there. What do you think? I need reviews. Now!!! I feel like I just threw the book out the window… and I kinda did. What do you think? REVIEW.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Alright… so, Edward just picked up Bella and carried her (against her will) to his car… and… ACTION. This chapter's gonna be too damn fun to write.**

**Chapter Fourteen**

What a prick.

Seriously.

What does he think this is? Gone With the Wind? You don't just pick up a girl when you want her to go somewhere. You don't just act sexy and amazing and lean in to kiss someone and then disappear. Prick.

We were in his car now. He had carried me all the way there, never releasing me, even going so far as putting me into the passenger seat and buckling my seatbelt around me. He didn't say a word, didn't look at me, didn't breathe. Just snapped the seatbelt into place, slammed the passenger door, and walked around the car too quickly.

We had been driving maybe four minutes when he stopped, pulling the car into a parking space and cutting the engine.

"I thought you were taking me home," I muttered, realizing I sounded like a six-year-old in the middle of a temper tantrum and not having the energy to care.

"You need to eat something. That idiot never fed you."

I shot him a look across the center console, but he was already halfway out of his seat and at my door a second later. How did he _do _that?

"I'm not hungry. I just want to go home."

"Do you need me to carry you again, Bella?" he threatened, his voice a mix of irony and annoyance.

"Whatever."

I swung my legs onto the ground before he had a chance to try to pick me up again. The area we were in now looked much more populated, all bright lights and welcoming store fronts, and I didn't need to be humiliated yet again tonight. Especially with an audience.

I stood myself up, bracing myself against his car for support, and winced. My ankle was not happy. It was no wonder. Mike had kept me walking way too far. Edward noticed my grimace, of course, and immediately drew his arm around my waist, closing the car door quietly behind me and supporting the bulk of the weight as he led me towards our destination, a cheerfully-lit, low brick building with a green awning over the door proclaiming "La Bella Italia" in white script.

"Italian," I muttered under my breath. This had to be where Mike was trying to take me. He had been going in the wrong direction. "Jesus, what a douche."

I could feel Edward chuckle silently beside me, but I didn't look up at him until we made it inside and stopped in front of the hostess station.

"Good evening," Edward said to the girl behind the podium. "Table for two, please."

She giggled and stared and twisted her long blonde hair around her finger a couple of times before reaching down and grabbing a couple of menus. Edward didn't seem to notice her, though, which just made her tug on her hair more forcefully. Apparently that move usually worked for her.

"Right this way," she said a bit too loudly. She led us through the crowded restaurant, her hips swaying a bit too widely, nearly clipping a couple of patrons as she weaved past their tables. "Here we are," she said, placing the menus on a table and gesturing for us to sit. The table was situated in the exact middle of the dining room, and, I suspected, within full view of her perch at the hostess stand.

Edward looked at the table and frowned, before throwing the hostess a devastating smile and leaning closer to her.

"Do you have anything a bit more private, perhaps?" he asked, pressing his hand firmly into hers. It looked as though her hand was closed around something when he pulled his away, and I wondered what had just happened. Part of me suspected he'd just tipped her, but the jealous part of me was convinced he had just slipped her his phone number.

Her eyes widened and she nodded like a broken doll. The poor girl. I couldn't hold my own when Edward smiled at me, either. She took a couple of deep breaths and picked our menus back up slowly, composing herself, before turning to face him again.

"Follow me," she purred, leading us into a back corner of the restaurant. It was darker back here, with enormous booths clearly meant for larger parties. But it was well away from the noisy chatter of the restaurant, and it seemed to satisfy Edward. "This alright, sir?" she asked, gesturing towards the furthest table from the dining room.

"It's perfect. Thank you." He didn't smile this time, and seemed impatient for her to leave.

She leaned over the table a bit too far, arching her back as she dropped our menus into place, and I fought the urge to gag. She was taking this a bit too far.

"Thank you," he repeated, gesturing for me to sit before taking his own seat across the table from me.

She looked at him expectantly, but he ignored her, and she walked away with her head down.

I arranged myself in the booth, twisting my hands in my lap and looking everywhere but at him. My date with Mike had taken a very unexpected turn, and I didn't know what to think about anything that had just happened.

How did Edward know where we were? That we were in trouble? Where did he learn to fight like that? Why did he insist on taking me home? Why did he insist on feeding me? Why…

"Bella," Edward interrupted, leaning across the table towards me.

"What?" I asked, confused.

He smiled lightly and gestured towards the woman who was now standing at the end of our table. "What would you like to drink?"

"Oh," I shook my head, embarrassed. I'd been spacing out. "Coke?"

"And for you, sir?" the waitress breathed, leaning towards him. This shit was getting old.

"Two Cokes," he said, waving his hand, his eyes on my face. She walked away dejectedly.

"You need to stop doing that," I said to him irritably.

"Doing what?"

"Dazzling people. Being you. It's not fair to the rest of the world."

"Pardon?" he asked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

I scowled at him.

"Bella, forgive me, but I don't know what you mean."

"Yeah. Sure. You don't know what I mean."

"I don't."

"Fine, then. I'll show you. When the waitress comes back, I want you to smile at her."

"You want me to… what?" He looked genuinely confused. I'm not going to lie, it was kind of adorable.

"Smile at her, Edward. Smile at her and watch what she does."

"I don't want to smile at her."

"Do it. I'm asking you to. I'm giving you permission. Do it."

He sighed, baffled by my behavior. To be frank, I was kind of baffled, too. I didn't want to see him smile at another girl, didn't want him to smile at anyone but _me_. But I wanted him, needed him, to know the effect he has on people. I needed him to know the effect he has on _me._

"Two Cokes," the waitress announced, setting them down on the table in front of us. "Are you ready to order?" She was looking at Edward as though I wasn't there. Edward, of course, was looking at me. And I hadn't read the menu.

"Ummm… mushroom ravioli," I said, choosing the first item I saw.

"And for you, sir?" she asked, looking at Edward like she wanted him to bend her over our table. "What can I get for you?"

"Nothing for me," he said, still looking at me. I narrowed my eyes at him and jerked my head in her direction. He frowned in consternation before breaking our gaze and turning his head to the waitress. "Thank you," he said smoothly, smiling at her.

The jealous part of me was irrationally pissed off. He only smiled at her because I asked him to.

The rest of me had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing.

Her reaction was… priceless. I felt less alone in the world. Her face turned shades of red that even _I _couldn't accomplish. Her body tensed and then melted, and she had to rearrange her feet to maintain her balance. She opened her mouth as though to say something, but seemed to think better of it and merely nodded a couple of times before walking away.

When I was sure she was gone, I began laughing hysterically. My body shook and my eyes watered. My hands clutched my sides.

"Drink your soda, Bella," Edward muttered, pushing my drink towards me.

I looked at him then. Looked at his uncomfortable expression, his lips drawn into a taut line, his eyes narrow in confusion. He thought I was making fun of him. That made me quiet down a bit. I may have told him to "fuck off" in the past, may have snapped at him and told him to get out of my life, but I would never make fun of him.

"You really don't understand what you do to people. Do you?" I asked, rubbing my eyes and pulling my soda towards me.

"I know… a bit. I know that I can get things when I smile, for one," he admitted, looking at me sheepishly. "And I know that women seem to… like me. It doesn't mean I understand why, though."

I snorted, covering my face with my hands at the sound.

"I don't like being laughed at, Bella," he said quietly.

"I'm… I'm not laughing at you, Edward. Really. It's just, I mean… you're gorgeous. You have to know that. You can't walk around with that face and those eyes and not know it." Shit. Did I really just say that?

"You think I'm gorgeous?" he asked, smiling at me.

"I didn't say that _I_ thought that… oh, hell. Fine. You're very attractive, Edward. But you _know _that."

"I think you're very attractive too, Bella."

Fuck. Me.

"I, um… thanks."

I shifted uncomfortably on the bench, trying to adjust my cast under the table. He noticed.

"Does your ankle hurt?" he asked, concerned. Of course he was concerned. He was always concerned. When he wasn't angry.

"It's fine," I lied.

"No it isn't. Here," he said, reaching under the table and smoothly pulling my leg onto the bench.

"It's f---"

He gave me a look, silencing me, as he unstrapped the bulky plastic from around my ankle and set it aside, cupping my heel in his hand and elevating my foot slightly.

"Does that feel better?" he asked, looking at me.

"Yes," I sighed, relief washing over me. "Thank you."

His hand was cold, but it calmed the throbbing feeling I'd been fighting against since my little walk with Mike.

"Are your hands always so cold?" I asked, leaning my head back against the wall of the booth.

"Sorry," he muttered, setting my foot down on the cracked red vinyl of the bench.

"No, please… it feels good. I wasn't complaining. Just curious."

He left my foot on the bench, though, and moved back around to his side of the booth.

"I'm… yes. My hands are always cold."

"Must be nice," I offered. "I'm always too hot."

He looked uncomfortable. Again.

"So, Edward," I began, trying again, "tell me about yourself. I don't really know anything about you. Except that you have impeccable timing."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, first the truck and now this," I said gesturing vaguely outside. "You've saved my life twice now. I'd call that timing."

"I don't…," he began, fidgeting. And then his face changed entirely. "What were you thinking walking in the middle of nowhere with Mike Newton," he demanded.

"I didn't…"

"And why didn't you make him drive you? You shouldn't be walking anywhere right now."

"I asked…"

"And what were you doing going on a date with him in the first place? He's beneath you, Bella. He's a child. Is that what you look for in a man?"

"Stop it."

"And--. What?"

"I said stop it. You do not talk to me like that. Ever."

"I—"

"No, Edward. If you would like to know something, you can ask me. You can ask me anything you want, and I'll answer you to the best of my ability. But don't you dare judge me or yell at me like that ever again. You have no right to talk to me that way, regardless of what you've done for me. Now apologize."

"What?"

"I said apologize, Edward, or I'm leaving. I told you before that I would not tolerate these mood swings of yours anymore, and I meant it."

He looked at me. Bewildered and annoyed and hurt and amused. I looked back at him.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he murmured, suddenly intensifying his gaze. "You deserve better than this. And I will try to be better. I promise."

"Thank you," I replied curtly. I crossed my arms across my chest and sat back. I was proud of myself.

"Why--," Edward began, stopping himself for a moment to collect his thoughts. "Bella, why did you say yes to Mike Newton?"

He dropped his eyes to the table. I was baffled by his behavior. Were his feelings hurt? Was he… Was Edward Cullen _jealous_?

"If I answer your question will you answer one of mine?" I asked, and he eyed me skeptically. "It's only fair, Edward. That's a pretty personal question."

He nodded once.

"Because he asked me," I said simply.

"That's not a reason."

"Yes it is."

"Bella, you know it isn't. Please just answer the question like you said you would."

His eyes met mine and this time I looked away first.

"Because he was nice to me all day and I would've felt guilty turning him down. Because he's a boy and I'm a girl and I have to remind myself of that sometimes. Because I haven't been out on a Friday night in a very long time. Because…" I was worried about saying the next part, but I made myself spit it out anyway, "because I was hoping you would feel jealous. I wanted to make you jealous."

He inhaled sharply at the last remark, and then his face changed again. His eyes softened, his mouth twitched, he looked… relieved?

"My turn," I stammered, wanting to move past what I'd just admitted. "How did you know where we were? That we were in trouble?"

He shook his head slightly looking down at his hands on the table.

"Edward, you've broken too many promises to me already. Answer my question. I answered yours."

I reached across the table towards him, trying to touch my fingers to his, to tell him it was alright, but he pulled his hands into his lap and looked up at me miserably.

"Edward—"

"I followed you."

His voice was so quiet that I couldn't be sure what I'd just heard.

"What?"

"I followed you," he said louder, admitting it. He stared at me like he was afraid I was going to get up and run away from him. Throw my drink in his face. Call him a stalker.

I didn't.

I sat there and wondered my stomach felt warmer at his admission. Why my body tingled. Why I _liked_ the fact that he'd followed me.

"You followed me," I repeated, nodding. "Why did you do that?"

"I just needed to know you were safe. I wasn't spying on you or anything, I promise. I didn't go into the movie or…"

"You were at the movie theater?"

"Yes."

"Did you hear us talking in the parking lot?"

"Yes."

"Why did you move your car when we started walking?"

"I was trying to give you some… privacy."

I nodded as though that made perfect sense.

"And then…" I prompted.

"And then that man put his hands on you. He put his hands on you and Newton just _stood_ there." He was getting angry again, and I tried to come up with something to distract him.

"But your car was around the corner… how could you…"

"I have… good hearing," he explained, looking uncomfortable again.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, Bella."

"Don't be."

We looked at each other again, silence blossoming in the space between us. The waitress brought my ravioli, and I was grateful to have something to concentrate on for a while.

I was spearing my first piece of pasta on my fork when he spoke again.

"Why did you want to make me jealous?"

I froze.

"You said I'm attractive and you said you wanted to make me jealous."

I stopped breathing.

"Why, Bella?"

Shit.

He leaned towards me across the table, and, against my will, I found myself looking at him. His mouth was twisted into that impossible crooked smile, and his eyes were bright. He was enjoying this. Bastard.

"I might, um… look, this is… I just…"

"Why, Bella?"

"I like you, ok? No matter how much I hate you. no matter how much you piss me off and make me crazy and… no matter how much I fight it, I still like you."

I shoved the ravioli in my mouth and concentrated on chewing. I concentrated on the fork and how it felt in my hand. The bowl of pasta in front of me. The dancing bubbles in my soda.

I ate for a minute in silence, willing the redness out of my cheeks, willing my heart o beat normally again, before looking up at him.

He looked… sad.

"This… this isn't right, Bella. This isn't right or fair to you, and I'm sorry. It's all my fault." His eyes met mine for the hundredth time that night but, for the first time, his carefully constructed wall was down. He was vulnerable.

All I wanted to do in that moment was hug him. To wrap my arms around him and hold his head in my hands and make him feel happy again. I felt my hand creep across the table again, seeking him out, but I drew it back, knowing he wouldn't let me touch him.

"I don't see how it's your fault, Edward. It's a silly thing to apologize for."

"No, Bella. I shouldn't have… it's one thing for me to want you, to worry about you, to think about you. But it's… you're suffering because of me. Because of _me_. It's unacceptable."

He kept talking, kept muttering, kept running his hands through his hair distractedly… but I didn't hear him. I didn't hear a word he said.

He wanted me. He worried about me. He thought about me.

"You want me?" I asked quietly, interrupting his monologue.

"Yes," he breathed, leaning forward onto the table, dropping his head into his hands.

I reached forward timidly and stroked his forearm with my fingertips, tracing a line up over his hand and into his beautiful bronze hair. I ran my nails lightly across his scalp he leaned into my hand, moaning softly at my touch. Emboldened by his response, I moved my other hand to his face, stroking his cheek with my thumb.

"Bella," he whispered, lifting is head and ensnaring me in his gaze, "god, Bella. You have no idea how that feels."

He slowly reached his hand across the table and brushed a lock of hair from my eyes.

"You're so beautiful, Bella. So damn beautiful."

"Can I get you anything else?" a clipped, female voice said loudly.

Edward was gone again, leaning back against the booth as though nothing had happened. The wall behind his eyes back up again.

I looked around for the source of the disruption, trying to force the Edward-induced fog from my brain so I could think clearly again. The waitress was standing at the edge of our table, arms folded across her chest. Who the fuck does she think she is?

"We're fine, thanks. I have everything I need right here." I gestured across the table to Edward, my tone dripping with venom.

"We need the check, please," Edward said, reaching out to stop her as she walked away. "As soon as possible."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"Bella," he sighed, "we need to have a talk."

**A/N: Woohoo! That was super fun to write. Hope it came across alright. Review please!!! I'm dying to know what you thought. : )**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I should sooo be writing an English paper on logical fallacies in the Declaration of Independence right now… guess what I'm not doing. I just couldn't wait to see how Edward and Bella's little talk goes. I don't know if anyone's noticed it yet, but I have absolutely no idea where the story is going. I just sort of type and let the characters do what they feel like. Hence the deviation.**

**Anyway… SM owns Twilight, and I own nothing but a big pile of student loan debt.**

**On with the show… : )**

**Chapter Fifteen**

Two awkward car rides in the same night. I was on a roll.

Edward hadn't looked at me since the waitress interrupted us, hadn't spoken to me since he paid the check, and hadn't touched me since he'd gotten me safely to the car. And now here I sat, ten minutes into the hour long car ride home, wondering if we were ever going to talk at all.

I peeked over at him through my hair, a move I'd perfected at this point. His mouth was drawn into a hard line across his face, his eyes locked on the road in front of him. His whole posture screamed "tense." His fingers were gripping the steering wheel as though for dear life and… wait…

"Holy shit, Edward! Slow the fuck down!"

"What?" he asked, finally tearing his eyes away from the road to look at me.

"Don't look at me, idiot! You're going too fast! Do you want to kill us?!"

"Bella, I always drive this fast. You're perfectly safe." He sounded annoyed, exasperated. Well, fuck that.

"I don't give a damn how you drive when you're by yourself, but I'm in the car now, and I'm telling you to slow down. Now."

"We're really not going that fast," he argued. "I'm an excellent driver."

"Edward, just because your speedometer goes into three-digit territory doesn't mean you have to _use _it. I'm not going to say it again. Slow the fuck down." I turned my body to face him, narrowing my eyes.

"Bella—"

"_Now_."

"_FINE!_" he snapped, louder than I'd ever heard him before. Even with those drunks back in Port Angeles his tone had been even. Now he was… undone. "Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine."

He backed off of the accelerator, gently depressing the brake, and I was glad that, even through his rage, he _was_ a good driver.

"_Thank_ you," I muttered sarcastically, and his expression went from bad to worse. Oops. Big mistake.

"You know what, Isabella Swan?" he spat, pronouncing every syllable of my name.

The car was slowing down more now, and I could feel it begin to shake. I spun to look out of my window in confusion. He was pulling us onto the shoulder, stopping the car. He was stopping the car in the middle of nowhere.

I was terrified. But there was no way in hell I was going to let him know that.

"What, Edward Cullen?" I responded, giving his name the same treatment.

He shifted the car into park and turned to face me over the center console.

"_FUCK YOU._" He threw the driver's side door open and was gone not a second later, slamming it shut behind him.

Oh holy shit.

I pushed him too hard. I pushed and pushed and…

Oh shit.

I was sitting in an empty car in the middle of nowhere.

The boy who never loses his cool, even when I want him to, just chose this moment and this place to totally freak out on me.

Shit.

Shit. What do I do now?

I could call Charlie…

No. Bad idea.

He thought I was still on my date with Mike right now.

He'd never let me leave the house again.

Shit.

Oh shit.

Alright, Swan. Chill. Breathe. He's too responsible to let you get hurt out here. He's just pissed. Give it a minute, take a deep breath. Breathe. Breathe. Good girl. You can handle this. In the past week, you've nearly been hit by a car and assaulted by a drunk. This is a walk in the park.

Breathe.

In and out.

Good. Better.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and slowly opened my door, not knowing where Edward was. I didn't want to surprise him, and I certainly didn't want him to surprise me. Stepping out of the car, I took a quick look around. Nowhere in sight. That was good. And bad.

"Edward," I called, timidly. My voice was deadened by the dense forest in front of me, but I knew that he would hear me somehow. "Edward, I'm sorry."

"Get back in the car, Bella," his voice floated to me. I strained my eyes, trying to see him in the darkness. It was a useless effort. "I'll be fine in a moment. I just need a moment."

"Edward, no. I can't… please, Edward. Just come talk to me."

"Bella, I said get back in the car. I meant it."

But I didn't want to. I knew that if I got back into the car, this thing we had between us… it would get lost. It would get ignored and pushed aside and it would wither and die and be lost forever. We would end up maintaining the status quo, snapping at each other one minute and reaching for each other the next. We would stay strangers. And there was just no way that I was going to let that happen.

We were going to deal with this now. I didn't care if he yelled and screamed at me. I didn't care if we beat the shit out of each other. We were doing it now.

I took a step towards the vase forest that stretched out alongside the road. It was dark and creepy and the rational side of me screamed for me to stop, but I just told the rational side to shut up and kept walking. His voice had sounded like it was deep in the woods in front of me, and I decided that was where I should go. Wary of errant roots and branches, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, flipping it open and using the bright screen to illuminate my way.

I walked slowly and deliberately, maneuvering my cast over rocks and fallen branches, holding my breath. I had gotten about twenty feet into the forest when I heard the noise. It sounded guttural, primal…

I shuddered.

"Edward?" I called softly, hoping that he was near, that I had chosen the right direction.

"Bella, freeze." His voice was urgent and, more importantly, very close by. It sounded like he was just in front of me. Ignoring his instructions I kept moving forward, eager to find him. Eager to feel him nearby, to feel safe in all this darkness.

"Edward, I…" I began again, shining my phone in front of me like a flashlight.

And then I saw him. The light from my phone illuminated his pale skin, making him glow faintly in the dark. He wasn't more than five feet in front of me, and he was crouched on the ground, his face bent over something I couldn't quite make out.

"Bella, if you value your life at all, you will leave. Now." He hissed the words at me through his teeth, his jaw clenched tightly. His entire body was frozen, statue-like, and I was worried that he may have hurt himself.

I took another step forward.

It looked like there was some sort of animal on the ground in front of him. I thought I saw hooves, maybe some fur.

I took another step forward.

It looked like a deer.

I took another step forward.

And I could see everything.

I should have waited in the car.

**A/N: Cliff hanger much? I totally wasn't planning on going there, but I sooo totally went there. Please review immediately. I don't know if I love the twist or hate it. I must have opinions. Now. NOW. REVIEW.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: So, apparently I only find the will to write when I'm procrastinating doing something else. I have a couple of school-free days this week, with absolutely nothing to do, and I feel absolutely no urge to write. It's somewhat paradoxical. I left you guys in a very bad place, though, and I am determined not to let you down, so I've parked my ass in a coffee shop across town, have filled my stomach with iced chai and cheesecake brownies, and am bound and determined to give you at least two chapters to make up for my lack of updating yesterday. I feel horribly guilty. **

**Still, I didn't get nearly enough comments from my little twist. I was so proud of myself. Did you guys not like it? Come on… there's a review button at the bottom of the page. Click it. You know you want to.**

**SM owns Twilight and its characters. I don't. *sigh***

**Chapter Sixteen**

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it, Bella? I'm a good listener," Angela said quietly next to me. I had never in my life been happier to have a friend than I was at this moment. The girl had saved my life. Literally.

"Maybe later," I replied, examining my hands in my lap, surveying the damage the frantic run from the woods had left on my palms. "I don't really want to think about it right now."

"No problem," Angela said simply. "I'm here if you change your mind."

"Thank you for coming to get me. I don't know what I would have done without you. Really."

She shrugged it off, smiling kindly at me. She was amazing. Truly amazing.

Who else but Angela would have driven into the middle of nowhere to pick up a friend at 10 o'clock at night? Who else but Angela would have pretended to ignore the state of my hair, filled with twigs and leaves, and my palms, scraped raw from the number of times my hands had roughly hit the ground every time I fell? She had just smiled at me and suggested I tell Charlie I would be sleeping at her house tonight so that I didn't have to face him in my condition. And I did, telling him that Mike and I had run into her at the diner on the way home from Port Angeles. Charlie was an easy guy. He just told me to have fun and he'd see me in the morning.

We drove in comfortable silence, with her humming along to the radio as I watched the trees go by out the window. Her mom's station wagon felt safe, cozy, and entirely different from Edward's pretentious Volvo. I felt at ease, in spite of the night's events, and dozed a bit until we made it back to Forks, pulling into her driveway and walking quietly into her house.

She handed me a t-shirt and pajama pants and left me in her bathroom, gently suggesting that a shower might make me feel better. I didn't take one, though. I just wanted to go to sleep. I wanted to sleep and forget and wake up and find out that this entire night had been one long bad dream. That tonight had never happened. That Edward had never happened. I wanted to wake up in Phoenix and discover that I'd never come live with Charlie.

Lying next to her on the bed, I curled into a ball and willed myself to sleep, to forget. I let the day's frustrations and excitement, the evening's let downs and dramas, and the night's terrors wash over me, let them overwhelm my senses. And, just like that, I was out. And everything got worse.

"_Bella, if you value your life at all, you will leave. Now."_

_He was on the ground, kneeling over the lifeless deer. His face was obscured, but his tone was menacing. And I walked towards him anyway. Like an idiot. He warned me, and I kept coming. Because I was scared. I was scared of the woods and the dark and the disturbing image of the animal on the ground. I kept coming because I wanted him to make me feel better. I wanted to feel safe. He _made_ me feel safe._

_I was right in front of him, and his head snapped up. _

_And I saw it all._

_The rage in his eyes._

_The scowl on his lips, red with the blood of the animal on the ground in front of him._

_His body tensed as I heard a growl rip through his chest. _

_A grow directed at me. Caused by me._

_He warned me. _

_He warned me to stay in the car._

_He told me to leave._

_Because he was going to kill me._

_I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think._

_I stood there and waited for death. Waited for this beautiful demon to end my life._

_Our eyes locked in the darkness, and his gaze bore a hole through my skull. His glare was that same as the first day I had met him, that day in biology._

_That day in biology._

_Realization overtook my fuzzy thoughts and I felt a whimper escape my lips._

_That day in biology he had wanted to kill me._

_I looked into his eyes, trying to find the boy who had saved me from the truck, the boy who had run his hand across my cheek in the restaurant not thirty minutes ago. The boy who worried for my safety and protected me from the world._

"_Edward," I pleaded softly, trying to get through to the boy behind the monster. The boy who had to be in there somewhere. "You don't want to do this. You don't have to do this."_

_And, for just a moment, his eyes softened, his scowl relaxed, and he was himself. He was Edward. And Edward would never hurt me, could never hurt me. Edward would risk his life to save my own. _

_I looked at Edward, and he looked back at me. And his face twisted in horror, realizing what he had been about to do. He clenched his fists, spun on his heel, and took off into the woods._

_He was gone._

_I stood and gaped for a moment at the lifeless deer in front of me. Its neck had been ripped open. Its eyes glinted at me in the light of my cell phone, still clutched in my hand. I looked at the deer and realized that Edward had killed it. Edward had ripped that hole in its neck. Edward had sucked the blood from its veins. Edward… Fuck._

_My survival instinct took over and I ran back towards the road in a blind panic, tripping too many times, scraping my hands and tearing my clothes as I willed my legs to keep moving. My ankle was on fire, and I couldn't catch my breath, couldn't get the oxygen in my lungs fast enough, and I kept running. I ran until I was at the road, at the car. I collapsed into a heap on the shoulder of the highway, clutching at the cramp in my side and trying frantically to catch my breath. I was shaking and terrified and in so much pain. The pain was everywhere. But I was alive. I was alive, and that was all that mattered right now._

_After ten minutes of crying and screaming and clutching at myself, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called the only person I could think of who wouldn't ask questions. _

_Angela had been asleep. Angela was confused. Angela asked me where I was and was patient with me when I repeated over and over that I didn't know. And Angela came to get me._

_I sat with my back against Edward's Volvo, facing the woods. I wanted to see him if he was coming at me. I couldn't stomach turning away, being taken by surprise. I waited for him to come, to kill me, to rip my throat out as he had the deer. But he never came. He was gone._

_Angela pulled in next to Edward's car on the shoulder and gave me a questioning look, but she never asked for an explanation, and I never gave her one. I just got in her car and left._

_I was safe._

_For now._

**A/N: I know that was insanely short. I hope it answered some of your questions, though. I thought it was important for Edward to demonstrate his restraint to Bella and himself… especially since you guys have cleared enough reviews that I'm going to owe you some citrus pretty soon. And I hated the idea of Bella just doing research and deciding he was a vampire. Let's face it… in the real world, no matter how many Quileute legends you're told or websites you get onto, you'd never just think "ok, he's a vampire." She had to see it for herself. At least **_**I**_** needed her to see it for herself.**

**Sorry if the writing's choppy. It was a bitch to get out, believe me. Hopefully everyone's satisfied, though. Leave me some reviews… good bad or ugly. I don't care. I just need feedback. And more chai. : )**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: OMG… I've gotten so many reviews in the past few days. Thank you! Over 2,000 people have read this so far, and the story hasn't even been up for a month. Thanks soooo much! I'm procrastinating studying for my sociology exam right now, so of course I'm giving you a chapter.. : )**

**I don't own this shiz.**

**Chapter Seventeen**

"So what're you going to do, Bella?" Angela asked me quietly, bringing me back into reality.

After a restless night at her house and a tense drive back to mine, we sat on my bedroom floor facing each other. I had decided I would tell Angela everything about what happened last night… everything except for the drinking blood part. As far as she knew, Edward had stormed away from the car in a rage, and threatened me when I found him in the woods. It wasn't the whole truth, but it was the best I could do without exacerbating the situation. I just had to talk to someone. Someone who wouldn't gossip. Someone who would only offer an opinion if I asked for it. Every day, I was a little bit more grateful for Angela's presence in my life.

"I'm not sure," I said, playing with the scrapes on my palms absentmindedly. "He's like… well… he _is_ two different people with me. And I don't know what I _can_ do. On the one hand, I owe him twice now for saving my life. On the other hand, he nearly… I'm not sure what he would've done out there. He was just so angry…"

"He really did push you out of the way of Tyler's van then?" Her eyes widened a bit, but her tone was even. It occurred to me that I'd only ever discussed the accident with Jessica, and, even if Jessica had told Angela what I'd said, she probably wouldn't believe her.

"Yes. We were talking by my truck and he saw the car spinning out and pushed me out of the way." I hadn't broken my initial promise to him yet, and I saw no reason to do it now… even under these circumstances.

"Wow."

"Yeah. I know."

"Bella," she ventured, "do you think he might be sick? Like, could he have some sort of disorder or something? Maybe he has anger management issues?"

I thought about the scene I'd walked into last night. Edward crouched on the forest floor. Edward with the lifeless deer sprawled in front of him. Edward with blood on his lips.

"Sick is a definite possibility."

"Like maybe he's bipolar?"

"Maybe."

"Well," she said, straightening her shoulders, suddenly all business, "let's look at things like he _is _bipolar for a minute. Let's say that there is something wrong with him that's beyond his control. What would you do, Bella? What would you do if it isn't his fault?"

If it wasn't his fault. What would I do if it wasn't his fault?

"I… I don't know."

"I think you need to look at this from both sides, and I definitely think you need to talk to him about it. You should do it in a public place, just in case… or on the phone maybe. I just wouldn't do it at school. You don't want a scene. Do you have his phone number?"

I shook my head.

"Well, maybe you can get it from someone. I don't know who would have it… but I can ask around for you." She smiled reassuringly at me, and reached across the floor to squeeze my shoulder reassuringly. "Whatever you find out, whatever you decide, it'll work out. I promise. It'll be alright."

I hoped she was right.

"What're you going to do about Mike?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Shit, I don't know," I said, looking at her questioningly. "To be honest, I hadn't even thought about it."

"Has he called you since… since he left?"

"Nope," I said emphatically.

She made a face and I made one back.

"He hasn't even called to check on you? What an asshole," she fumed.

"An asshole," I agreed. "I should probably call him, though. I don't want everyone knowing that Edward showed up. We need to work out some sort of story."

"I'd call him now," Angela encouraged. "Better to get it over with. I can leave if you like."

"Don't be stupid," I said. "In fact, I'll put it on speakerphone. Just don't say anything."

She nodded in agreement as I dialed his number, switching on the speakerphone setting and placing my phone on the floor between us.

"Hello?"

"Mike, hey. It's Bella."

Silence.

"Mike?"

Silence.

"MIKE?"

"Hey, Bella. What's up?" something in the tone of his voice was… off.

"Nothing much. Just hanging out. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night…"

"Don't bother," he said flatly. "Your boyfriend already called me."

What?

"Excuse me? Who called you?"

"Cullen. He told me what you wanted me to say. You shouldn't have worried, though… not like I was going to tell the whole school what happened anyway."

Edward called Mike? What the fuck?

"He… Edward called you? Oh. What did he tell you to say?" I was trying to sound normal. Trying to sound nonchalant. Across from me, Angela's jaw was hanging down somewhere in the area of her stomach.

"We saw the movie and I took you home. You don't need to review this shit with me. I'm not stupid, Bella."

"I… I know that, Mike. I didn't… he called you? When did he call you?"

"An hour ago. Look, I've gotta go, Bella. I'm really busy this weekend. Jessica's coming over."

Well that was fast.

"So… wait… do you…," I stopped stammering when something small and yellow was placed in my lap. A post-it. I looked up at Angela, and she pointed to the words she'd scrawled across it.

_Ask Mike if Edward's number's still in his phone._

The girl was a genius.

"Mike, did he call your cell?" I asked casually.

"Yeah," he grunted. What a polite young man.

"Could you check and see if his number's still in your phone? I need to talk to him."

"You don't have your boyfriend's number?"

"He's not my boyfriend," I snapped. "And he gave it to me a while ago but I never put it into my phone."

"I'll text it to you."

"Thanks, Mike."

He hung up. Friendly.

"_Edward_ called _Mike_?" Angela gasped. "What's up with _that_?"

I just shook my head, staring down at the phone between us.

It buzzed.

I flipped it open.

I'd received a text from Mike Newton.

And just like that I had Edward Cullen's phone number.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Google. Yahoo. MSN. AskJeeves. They all told me the same thing. They all gave me the same ridiculously impossible answer. For every search engine I plugged in two words "blood drinking." There were links to articles about cannibals and cults. There were some pretty off-putting YouTube videos. And then, there was the vampire stuff.

Vampire.

The word was at the forefront of my mind, on the tip of my tongue, but I refused to believe it. I clicked on every page, read every article, combed the internet for every scrap of information I could find… and found only one plausible answer. Vampire. As though vampire could ever be a plausible answer.

I made a list. I wrote down everything I had ever noticed about Edward. Every detail of his personality, his physique, his manner. I obsessed for hours, replaying every memory, reliving every experience. I thought back to the first day in the cafeteria, the first meeting in biology, the conversations we'd had, the accident in the parking lot, his behavior in Port Angeles, his outburst in the car, his… what had happened in the woods. I looked back at everything, and wrote everything down.

By 9 o'clock that night, I had seven pages of notes and a massive headache. I'd examined every option, and there was still only one possibility that fit every item on the list.

Vampire.

Fuck.

Vampire.

This can't be happening to me.

Vampire.

I clicked off my desk lamp and threw myself onto the bed, shoving some pillows under my much-abused ankle and staring at the ceiling.

Vampire.

I exhaled.

Vampire.

I inhaled.

Vampire.

What does this mean?

Vampire.

What do I do?

Vampire.

Angela had recommended I look at his behavior from two perspectives. Maybe he was sick. Isn't that what she'd said?

Vampire.

I'd call that sick.

I reached for my cell phone on the nightstand, quickly typing out a text message and hitting send before I had the chance to think about it.

_Edward, it's Bella. We need to talk._

I blinked at my ceiling a few times and folded my hands across my stomach. This was definitely going to be a long night.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Midnight came and went, and I was awake. 1 a.m., 2 a.m., I was still awake. I hadn't moved from the bed, hadn't changed my clothes. I wouldn't be sleeping tonight. Tonight was for thinking. And maybe he would call…

Edward Cullen is a vampire. Period. There was nothing I could do about that fact except accept it and move on. Avoidance wouldn't help anyone, and if I was crazy then I was crazy.

Edward Cullen is a vampire. That means his family are probably vampires, too. I thought about the four beautiful figures who sat at his lunch table with him every day. Definitely vampires. And Dr. Cullen, with his pale skin and Edward's eyes, he was likely a vampire as well.

The Cullens are vampires. Nothing I can do about that.

Edward Cullen.

I sighed into the darkness, shifting my weight so I could roll onto my side, closing my eyes.

Edward Cullen was a vampire.

Edward Cullen had saved my life.

Edward Cullen worried about me to the point that he had followed me to Port Angeles.

Edward Cullen wanted me.

Edward Cullen didn't look at other women when he was around me.

Edward Cullen responded to my touch the same way I responded to his.

Edward Cullen was a vampire.

Edward Cullen had been prepared to kill me.

I heard my window slide open at the foot of my bed and I froze. I heard it slide shut again and I remained completely still, clamping my eyelids down tighter. I didn't breathe. I didn't move.

Cold fingers drew themselves across my cheek, tucking an errant lock of hair behind my shoulder. Cold fingers. My hand snapped out and grabbed the hand before it left my hair. My eyes flew open.

Edward Cullen was a vampire. And he was standing in my room.

**A/N: I know… my chapters are getting shorter and shorter. I suck. It's just easier to write the heavy stuff one scene at a time. You've got a pretty drawn out Edward/Bella chat coming up next, though. I'm toying with the idea of them either maintaining a phone relationship or an e-mail relationship for the next few weeks. I don't think Bella should trust him immediately. Thoughts?**

**Review.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: So, I feel evil for holding off writing for the past few days. On the plus side, the semester's over, I get a week of freedom before summer classes begin. I've somehow managed to score not one but TWO awesome jobs for the summer, so I'll be busy as hell… which means I'll probably be updating more frequently. Lol. I lose focus when I'm bored.**

**Thanks so much for your responses to the last chapter. And thanks to LivelyLaura for not being shy with her opinions. I'm not gonna lie… I'm terrified to write this conversation. This will define their entire relationship. That's a lot of responsibility. But I went back and read all my reviews, and I felt a lot better about doing this. So there's that. Still… I'm scared. Please let me know how I do, be it good or bad. **

**Again, I have no idea where I'm taking this, just letting the characters speak for themselves. The last chapter came as a complete surprise, which made it a great deal of fun to write. Hopefully this one will be the same.**

**I don't own this. Sorry for the terribly long A/N. Let's get this over with.**

**Chapter Eighteen**

Fuck me. What do I do? What do I _do_?!

I blinked hard, but he was still there. I squeezed my hand around his wrist, expecting the cold, hard skin beneath my fingers to vanish into thin air, but it was still there. He was still there.

I didn't know what to do. God, what do I do? There's a boy in my room. There's a _vampire_ in my room. Do I scream? Do I jump out the window?

Maintaining my grip on his wrist, I sat myself up, moving back on the mattress cautiously until I felt my back hit the wall. I looked at him, unsure of what to do, wishing he would say something. I was terrified and confused and excited and… wait… excited? Was I really excited? Shit. Yes. I'm excited. I wandered into the woods last night to find this boy on the forest floor with his teeth in a deer's neck, and I'm excited that he's in my room, uninvited, in the middle of the night? Awesome. That's healthy.

I sat and watched him for a moment, my hand still clinging to his wrist. I was scared that if I let go, he'd leave, he'd vanish. A good chunk of me, my rational side, wanted him to leave and never come back. He was dangerous. He had come through my window in the middle of the night and _touched_ me. It was creepy and scary and ten shades of wrong. But then there was the other side of me… the side that wanted answers. The side that wanted an explanation, wanted him to sit down in front of me and tell me everything I wanted to know. That side was winning. Which makes me pretty damn stupid.

His face was completely unreadable in the dark. All I could tell was that he was looking at me. He'd been looking at me since I'd opened my eyes. I wanted him to keep looking at me, to always look at me. And that makes me pretty damn stupid, too.

After a couple of minutes of silence, I decided something had to give. I gave his wrist a hard squeeze before releasing it to reach over and switch on the lamp on my nightstand. The sudden brightness hurt my eyes, and I rubbed them with the backs of my hands, trying to adjust to the new light, before dropping them into my lap and looking up.

His posture was… annoying. His spine was straight, his shoulders back, in perfect Edward Cullen fashion, but his hands were jammed into his pockets now and his neck was bent, his eyes focused on the floorboards of my room. He looked uncomfortable. He had the balls to look uncomfortable. And miserable. And all I wanted to do was give him a hug and make him feel better. And fuck him for making me feel like that. He breaks into my house in the middle of the night and looks _uncomfortable_?

"What the fuck, Edward?"

His head snapped up. His eyes widened. I don't know what he'd been expecting, but he hadn't expected that.

"Pardon?"

"I said _'what the fuck'_. Like… what the fuck are you doing here? What the fuck are you doing climbing through my window at three o'clock in the fucking morning? What the fuck are you doing here, in this room, in this house right now?" I glared at him, celebrating internally when his eyes dropped down to the floor again, breaking my gaze. I was angry, and anger was easy. Anger was easier than any other emotion I had about this guy. And, damn it, I was going to hang onto it.

"You sent me a text message, Isabella," he said quietly, addressing the floor. "I just… I thought that… I don't… you're normally asleep by now and I grew so tired of not being able to see you… I just wanted to see you…"

"I'm normally asleep by now? How would you know that? How would you _know_ that, Edward?"

He froze. He had clearly not meant to say that. And then I froze, too. Because how _did _he know?

"I… well, I…" He looked uncomfortably towards the window, and I was terrified that he would try to leave.

He wasn't allowed to leave. Not until I had answers. I took a couple of deep breaths, regaining my composure before continuing. Yes, anger felt better than anything else, but it had also gotten me nowhere with him in the past.

"Edward," I said, remarkably evenly given the current situation, "sit down."

He looked at me, confused.

"Sit," I insisted, gesturing towards my desk chair. He hesitated before reaching over and bringing it closer to the bed. Ordinarily, I would've objected to the proximity, but I'm not the best at keeping my voice down under even normal circumstances, and with Charlie sleeping down the hall, this conversation had to remain as close as possible.

He sank into the chair with a light sigh and fidgeted a bit before raising his head to meet my gaze again.

"Edward, we have a lot that we need to talk about. To be more specific, I have a lot that I need you to tell me. And you are going to, Edward. You are going to tell me everything, and you are not going to leave anything out."

There. I said it. Calmly. Like an adult.

"Isabella, I'm sorry but I'm not going to do that. There are some things, many things, which you are better off not knowing about. And I refuse to destroy your future merely to satisfy your curiosity." His eyes were gentle but his tone was resolute. Gone was the uncomfortable teenager that had stood in front of me a moment ago. Stubborn, guarded Edward was back.

"That wasn't a request. Maybe I didn't express myself clearly the first time. Maybe you didn't hear me correctly. Listen carefully, Edward," I leaned in closer to him, my face inches from his, "you will tell me everything."

He began to shake his head and my hands flew to his face, holding it in front of me, willing him to give in.

"You will tell me everything," I repeated.

"No, Bella, I won't."

"You will. And you'll do it because, answers or no, you've already permanently altered my _future_. You will tell me because it is the right thing to do. Because you are not the… person… I saw in the woods last night. Because, in spite of everything that I've seen and everything I think I know… in spite of the world… I trust you, Edward." The words came out in a rush, but they were true. It was true. It was wrong and silly and suicidal… but I trusted him. "Please, don't make me regret trusting you."

His face contorted, not in rage but in pain. He looked as though he wanted to cry. He looked destroyed and lost and miserable, and I, again, found myself resisting the urge to comfort him.

"Bella," he breathed, and I was suddenly very aware of the fact that my hands were cradling his face. Very aware of the fact that his lips were inches from my own. "Bella, please… you don't know what you're asking."

His eyes begged me, pleaded with me, but I wouldn't have it.

"I will listen to everything you tell me. You will tell me, and I will just listen. After everything that has happened, everything that we have been through together, Edward, you must trust me."

I leaned forward slightly so that our foreheads were touching, running my thumb gently across his cheekbone. I breathed deeply, intoxicated by his delicious scent. This was wrong. This was beyond wrong. And yet… it felt so _right_ touching him. Being with him. Nothing in my life had ever felt this certain, this pre-ordained. The word destiny came to mind. And serendipity. And fate. I heard him sigh quietly, his cool breath washing over my face.

There were things to figure out here. Things to discuss. Edward was not human. He was… I couldn't even think about that now. Because he was here in front of me and the feeling of his marble skin under my hands was beyond amazing and all I wanted was to bridge that gap between us and kiss him.

"Bella." He spoke my name once, bringing his hands up to cover mine, drawing them away from his face and down to his chest. "Bella, there is something you need to know about me. Something that will make you _hate_ me." His eyes searched my face, begging me to stop him, but his hands… what was he doing?

I drew my face away from his, my eyes focusing on his torso. One of his hands held both of mine, while the other was unbuttoning the top of his shirt, letting the black fabric fall open to reveal his perfectly sculpted chest. It was… breathtaking and beautiful and heartbreaking because I knew in that moment that I would never meet another man as long as I lived who could measure up to the one in front of me. He had ruined me.

"Isabella," he said gently, "I need you to feel this. I need you to feel this for yourself and know what I am."

And his hands brought mine to his breast, pressing my palms firmly against his sternum. His eyes watched me, and I watched my hands. And then I understood. My hands were over his heart. And his heart wasn't beating.

It was unsettling at first. It felt unnatural. It _was_ unnatural. But I waited a moment, keeping my hands there, forcing myself into the reality of the situation, before raising my eyes to his face again. I searched his expression, unsure of how he had expected me to react, but found no answers. His guard was up. He expected the worst.

"I already knew that, Edward. I already know… what you are. And, try as I might, I do not hate you. I could not hate you."

And, just like that, my world exploded. Edward's face was… there are no words. The wall behind his eyes was gone. I had thought before that I had caught glimpses of the real him, but I had been so terribly wrong. He was so beautifully vulnerable in that one moment, and I saw his confusion and hurt and relief and joy and desperation and panic and excitement. But then there was just panic. Panic and fear. He didn't want to believe me. He couldn't allow himself to believe me.

"Bella," he whispered quickly, "you know what I am?"

"I know what you are, Edward."

"And… you don't hate me? You're not afraid of me? You're not disgusted by me?"

"I know what you are, Edward, but I know _who_ you are, too. And that is more important to me."

He looked at me wordlessly, shaking his head.

"Bella, I don't think you understand. You can't possibly know what you're saying," his voice was desperate. He thought I was confused. I had to set him straight. He was in pain, and I had to stop it. "You can't know… I have to tell you that I'm…"

"A vampire," I finished, taking his hands in mine. "You're a vampire, Edward."

I said it so casually, as though it was nothing. He just sat there, frozen. The word had stopped him in his tracks.

"Yes," he whispered, unwilling to look at me. "And you can't… you need to realize… that has to bother you."

"It does," I said slowly. "It did. It bothered me all night. It terrified me. I'm still afraid of it, Edward, because I don't entirely know what it means. I only know what I've read, which is why it's so important for you to tell me everything. So that I can understand."

"If I tell you, you'll hate me. You'll run away. You'll push me from your life. As you should, Bella. As you should. I'm not good for you." He dropped his gaze to his lap, twisting his hands out of mine. "I almost killed you."

He was right. He was right and I didn't care. I should have cared. I should have told him to leave, pushed him away from me. I should have screamed for Charlie. I should have told him to go away and never come back.

But I couldn't. He had almost killed me, but he hadn't. He had stopped. I had spoken his name, made him remember who he was… and he fought the monster… and he won. We were alone together for hours that night before our fight in the car, before he ran into the woods. We were alone together and he could have killed me a hundred times if he had wanted to. But he didn't. He saved me instead. He saved me again and again. That was the part that mattered. Last night had been scary. It had been terrifying. I would have nightmares for the rest of my life. But I hadn't understood what I was seeing. It had been so scary because I hadn't understood.

Edward Cullen was a vampire. He was dangerous and scary and cryptic and weird and brooding. He had almost killed me. But he had stopped himself. And that was the part that mattered.

"I won't run," I promised. "I could never run. And, Edward, you _didn't _kill me."

"But I could have, Bella… don't you see? I could never live with myself if something happened to you, Bella… I can never forgive myself for what I was prepared to do…" He was rocking back and forth, drawing his arms around his stomach as though trying to hold himself together. "I am a monster…"

"You are not a monster. You could never be a monster," I whispered, wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, drawing his shaking body closer to mine.

"Bella, please," he cried, pain in his eyes. Too much pain. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Enough," I said quietly, giving in as I felt my body take over. I leaned forward, bridging the gap between us, resting my forehead on his again. "Enough."

My lips found his and we both gasped at the contact. I had kissed before, but it had never felt like this. This was electricity and fire and so damn _good_. I shaped my mouth around his, feeling his lips resist mine. He wasn't kissing me back. He _needed_ to kiss me back. I tightened my hands on his neck, snaking my fingers into his hair, before running my tongue lightly along his lower lip. That did it.

Suddenly, his mouth was everywhere, kissing my lips frantically before moving on to explore the rest of my face. His arms wound themselves around my waist, drawing me closer to him, crushing me against his chest. I moaned at the contact, trying frantically to get my body even closer to his, cursing our clothes for keeping us so far away from each other.

His lips found my neck, kissing and licking just above my collarbone, and I inhaled sharply, shuddering at the delicious contact.

"Edward," I moaned, too enthralled to be embarrassed by the tenor of my voice. "God, Edward, please don't stop."

I moved my mouth to the side of his face, taking his earlobe between my teeth and breathing hotly onto his neck. His body shuddered and he moaned into my skin, tightening his grip on my waist, drawing me off of the bed and into his lap, balancing us both on my chair.

"Bella, I've wanted this for so long," he whispered, moving his hands up my back, "so long…"

He looked at me for a moment before kissing me eagerly, his tongue tracing my lips. I opened my mouth to him and was rewarded with another moan as our tongues danced, his cool breath invading my body and making me dizzy with lust. I crushed my hips into his and was suddenly very aware of the stiffness that was protruding from his jeans. Excited by my discovery, I shifted my legs so that I was directly over his erection and ground into him again, panting at the delicious friction it caused between my thighs.

This was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. This was heat and passion and ecstasy, and I had never known such things existed. I twisted my fingers into his hair, pulling his face closer to mine…

And then he was gone.

He was gone so fast.

One moment he was here in my chair, drawing me closer to him, doing things to my body that felt so good they should have been illegal… and the next he was gone. He pushed me onto the bed and was out the window before I even knew what hit me.

He was gone.

Edward Cullen was gone.

**A/N: I say that kid's name waaay too much. "Edward Cullen." It's some sort of literary crutch for me. Anyway, that's sooo not where I thought that would go. I've never written any citrus before, so I hope that last bit worked out ok. Yeah… I'm shocked that that's where it went, actually. I had every intention of writing a long conversation, if that makes you feel any better.**

**Please review. This is going to keep me awake all night.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Sorry it took so long for the update. I'm a whore, I know. I've started the new job, and it's super awesome. I start my summer semester on Monday, along with my other new job, so I'll be hella busy over the coming months… which should mean a lot more updating. When I have nothing to do I sit in coffee shops and read all day. When I have too much to do, I sit in coffee shops and write this story. I need therapy.**

**I keep writing short chapters. Well, they're short in my opinion. I'm gonna shoot for a long one here. I'm tired of the angst and I'm super tired of keeping these two crazy kids apart. Not sure how it'll work out, though. I'm injecting some technology into this chapter… hopefully it'll come off alright. Review, please, and let me know what you guys think. I'm toying with bringing in some EPOV, but thinking it'd be a bad call this late in the game. Maybe when I finally finish, I'll re-write as Edward… Midnight Sun style.**

**I don't own these characters. SM does. But she didn't let them swear or fuck… so I was forced to do something about it.**

**Chapter Nineteen**

_I'm sorry._

The screen on my cell phone went dark, and I smashed my thumb into the keypad, re-illuminating the display for the hundredth time this morning.

_I'm sorry._

Edward had sent the text almost immediately after he vanished out my window and back into the night. I had to give him credit for his speed in apologizing… the Edward I knew a week ago would have waited till I was dead to admit to his poor behavior. At least he was sorry. At least he had said something. But still… last night was… fuck.

It had been so amazing. His lips on mine, his hands on my body. I had never felt anything like it. All that heat and need and electricity. I've never been a sexually charged person, never really felt like I needed someone before. Damn had I needed him. And now that I knew what I was missing, now that my body knew what it felt like to be pressed against him, I needed him still.

Why did he leave?

My first reaction had been hurt and shame. I felt like I'd done something wrong, like I hadn't been a good enough kisser. But he had wanted me back. Even if his mind hadn't wanted me, his body clearly did. I remembered the feeling of his erection pressed against my thigh, and suddenly it was a little too warm in my room.

After hurt came anger. I stayed angry for the rest of the night. I finally drifted off to sleep around 5 a.m., only to wake up 4 hours later, just as pissed. He had come to my room, refused to tell me anything, made out with me, and left. I stayed angry for the better part of the morning. But then I remembered that text. And couldn't stay mad anymore.

I had started it. I hadn't started it in the beginning. I hadn't started _us_. But I had started last night. I never gave him a chance to even tell me why he had come to see me. I had just started screaming at him. And then I had insisted that he tell me his life story, tell me everything about him, I had insisted that he reveal himself to me. And that really wasn't fair. I remembered his face, the hurt behind his eyes, the panic when he found out that I knew what he was. He lives with a secret every day. It was ridiculous for me to think he would be able to just drop the façade and tell me everything.

And then _I_ had attacked _him_.

Sigh.

I looked down to the phone in my hands.

_I'm sorry_.

He had apologized. I owed him one in return.

_I'm sorry, Edward._

I hit send.

I waited.

_Don't be sorry, Bella. Don't ever be sorry._

I read it twice. What the hell did that mean? It was sweet, but what did it _mean_? Whatever. Chill out, Swan. Don't yell at him again. He won't tell you anything if you yell at him.

_I would still like to know more about you…_

Send.

I waited.

_I would like to know more about you, too._

Way to change the subject.

Alright. Texting sucks. It's fine with Angela, and it's the only way to deal with Jessica, but it doesn't work with boys you're trying to draw out. Time for plan B.

I dialed his number. He answered on the first ring.

"Hello, Bella." I could listen to that voice forever.

"Hey, Edward."

"What can I do for you this morning?"

"I'd… I'd like to try picking up from where we left off last night…"

Silence.

Silence.

Oh fuck… he thinks I meant the making out…

"I… uh… what I mean is… I'd like to talk about what we… you know… the… I'd like to talk to you today." Smooth, Bella. Real smooth.

"I'd like to talk to you as well." He sounded formal and distant, but he was talking to me.

"Can we meet somewhere?"

Silence.

"We don't' have to if you don't want."

Silence.

"It's just, I don't like phones…"

Silence.

"Edward? Edward are you there? Did the call drop? Fucking phone…"

"I'm here, Bella."

"Oh."

"Bella, I…" he trailed off. The boy likes to trail off.

"Yes?"

"I have… difficulty… controlling myself when I'm around you."

So don't control yourself.

"Oh."

"I would hate to, I mean…"

"You're worried you might attack me?"

"No," he said quickly, "not hurt you. After what happened in Port Angeles, and then again last night… I don't think I would attack you. That's not the problem."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I just… I'm… I'm _drawn_ to you," he said quietly.

He's drawn to me. He's DRAWN to me. Edward fucking Cullen is fucking drawn to me.

I jumped out of bed, dancing giddily, completely forgetting my ankle in the process.

"Fuck," I muttered, ok… screamed, collapsing onto my floor. So much for healing. With the amount of shit I've put this ankle through, I'd be lucky if it wasn't amputated by the end of the month.

"Bella? Bella, what's wrong?" He sounded frantic. Of course he sounded frantic.

"I fell… it's nothing… just a minute…" I tried to stand up and get myself back to the bed, but my entire leg began to throb and I was forced to give up.

"You _fell_?" His voice was hard to hear. It suddenly sounded like he was talking to me from inside a wind tunnel. "Are you alright? Did you hurt anything? Don't move, Bella. Don't you dare move."

"Edward, really I'm fine… you know I'm clumsy… just calm d—," a noise cut me off mid-syllable. I turned to my window, watching amusedly as a pair of expensive-looking, brown leather shoes hit my floor. I followed the shoes up, past the dark wash jeans, past the grey sweater, past the alabaster neck. Edward.

Kid worries more than anyone I've ever met.

"Bella," he whispered, scooping me into his arms and placing me on the bed. "Show me where it hurts. Is it your ankle again? What happened, love?"

He called me "love". My entire body melted and pooled somewhere under my bed.

"Edward," I protested, "really, I'm fine. I just put too much weight on my foot again. I forgot. It happens all the time."

He was still hovering over me, his eyes raking over my body searching for injuries.

"Edward," I warned. His worry was endearing… but it was also getting old very quickly. "I've survived for 17 years without you being there to pick me up off the floor. You need to calm down. This is every day stuff for me."

"You need to be more careful," he muttered.

"I'll get right on that."

We looked at each other for a moment, and then his mouth twisted into that beautiful crooked smile of his. I couldn't help but grin after that.

"So you're in my room again."

He nodded, still smiling. His eyes sparkled when he smiled. It was hard to look anywhere else. Hard to think. Hard to breathe…

"Ummm…," I began brilliantly. I'm great under pressure. "Edward… you're here right now… I have to ask you… I'm not angry or anything anymore but… why'd you leave last night?"

His smile disappeared and so did mine. Still, it had to be asked. I needed to understand it. Clearly, there was something about the boy that I couldn't keep myself away from… I needed to know what I'd done wrong. There was no sense repeating the same behavior. It'd just make it more difficult for both of us.

He just sat there, looking at me, unsure of what to say.

"Was it because I kissed you?" I ventured.

"No, Bella. I liked that you kissed me. You kissing me was…," he trailed off again. Damn do I hate when he does that.

"Then what was it?"

"It was… I shouldn't have kissed you _back_."

I'm sorry… what?

I just looked at him, waiting for him to explain.

"I can't afford to lose control with you, Bella. Ever. _Ever._ And when I kissed you back, I lost all control. I lost myself. I can't lose myself with you."

"But… what?" Like I said, I'm so great under pressure.

"You're just so… so _breakable_, Bella. Everything about you is so delicate, so fragile. If I lost control with you, if I wasn't being careful, I could hurt you. I could kill you. I'd never be able to live with myself if that happened, Bella. You're too important to me. You mean everything to me."

He dropped his gaze to his lap and began picking invisible lint from his pants, and I thought about what he'd just said. He had to be confused.

"But, Edward… Edward, you don't even _know _me. How can I mean everything to you?"

"But I _do_, know you, Bella. I know that you're kind and smart and beautiful and caring. I know that you put everyone ahead of yourself, that you meet the needs of others before giving a thought to your own. I know how well you take care of your father, and I know the sacrifice you made for your mother so that she could be happy. I know that you find joy in the simplest of things, and that you have no use for the money or superficiality that drives most people's lives. I know that you look like an angel when you sleep, and I know that you look like a goddess when you're awake. I know that not a moment goes by that I don't think about you, worry about you, wonder about you, dream about you. Your existence consumes every part of me. You mean everything to me."

His eyes burned into mine, and he reached out, placing one of my hands between both of his.

"I'm in love with you, Bella. I can't run from it anymore. I love you."

Shut.

The.

Fuck.

Up.

What?

WHAT?!

Edward Cullen is in love with me.

No… I heard him wrong.

No I didn't. He said it twice.

Edward Cullen loves me.

Fuck me.

Holy shit.

And then I wanted to say it back. I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to bare my soul and throw myself into his arms and ride off into the sunset. It was on the tip of my tongue. "I love you too, Edward." Damn did I want to say it. But I bit it back.

Life isn't perfect and I don't know this boy. Happy endings never stay happy. He's a fucking _vampire_. Yes, I love him. I'm sure that I love him. But I don't know who he is yet. I know nothing about him. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here.

Still.

Edward Cullen loves me.

My heart stuttered and then took off at a full gallop and the beautiful boy in front of me smiled.

"You don't need to say it back, Bella. I don't need you to say it back. I just owed you that. I owed you the truth."

"T-thank you, Edward," I breathed. "Just… just give me a minute."

He nodded, keeping my hand. That was fine. As far as I was concerned, he could keep my hand for the rest of my life. I'd work out a way to do without it.

Alright, Swan. Time to think. He's being open with you now. Now's your chance. Start asking him questions.

"You watch me sleep?" I asked, and then mentally slapped myself. Of all the things I was curious about, I had to go and blurt out the least consequential. Still…

"Yes," Edward admitted sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

Strangely enough, it didn't bother me. It would've been nice if I'd known he was doing it, though… I would've worn some cuter pjs. I would've invited him into bed with me. I would've… no. Focus.

"Can you tell me why?" I asked gently. He needed to understand that I wasn't upset with him.

"At first, it was just to… to test myself. That first day in class, that day that I was so awful to you…" he looked at me and I nodded encouragingly. Information was good. I liked information. "I just… this is hard to explain…," he stared blankly at my bedspread for a moment before continuing. "Let me start over. Let me start from the beginning."

"Please do."

**A/N: I suck. I meant to write a long one. Damn it all. I think Edward's explanation needs its own chapter, though, and I need to do some thinking of my own. Again, this kind of took off on me. I was going to have them text for a couple of weeks, but I felt awkward writing so many texted conversations. Then Bella went and hurt herself again, and of course Edward had to come help her. Problem solved. : )**

**Please review. I don't know if you've noticed, but I update a lot faster when I get a lot of response. I feel like people are actually **_**reading**_** this. I've got about 60 people who've favorite me, but only 38 reviews. Come on, people. I'm not getting paid for this. Stroke my ego. Or tell me you hate me. At least tell me **_**something**_**.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Week from hell! So sorry it took me so long to write this. Long story short, my laptop totally crashed on me. The motherboard is fried. I lost everything on it. This includes 19 chapters of fan fiction which were in dire need of some editing. Hopefully I can recover them off of my hard drive, but it ain't looking good. So I'm christening my hasty replacement laptop with this new chapter. Typing feels odd, so if I typo here and there, please forgive.**

**This chapter's going to be a bitch for me. I don't care to re-hash Edward's bullshit from when they met, but I realize it has to be done, so I'm doing my job. Please forgive if it doesn't go that smoothly… I've been putting this off and putting this off and I need to just bite the bullet and do it already. So, yeah. Thanks for the reviews, by the way. I find it endearing that some of you said I was a good comedic writer. I've never thought of it that way before, but I guess you're kinda right. I do get a bit snarky. Lol.**

**I don't own Twilight or its characters. If I did, I would've replaced my laptop with a MacBook instead of this POS HP that's perched on my lap right now. FML.**

**Chapter Twenty**

"Bella," the boy in front of me began, pushing his hand through his hair and looking at me cautiously, "when I first met you, when I first saw you, I was… I was confused. No. Confused isn't the right word. I was perplexed and terrified and bewildered and intrigued and more than a little bit obsessed. You were, you are, so different from anyone I've ever met. I just… I didn't know what to make of you. I still don't. You're just so surprising, Bella. So very surprising."

He shook his head and smiled to himself, tracing light circles with his fingers on the palm of my hand.

"Surprising?" I prompted, pulling him away from his thoughts and back to me. "I don't understand. How… I mean… we didn't even speak. I need you to explain, please. I want to understand."

He nodded gently and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Bella, I have certain… gifts." He pronounced the last word carefully, watching me from under his lashes. "I can… I don't know… I don't want you to…"

"Edward, I want to know everything about you. Tell me. I won't judge you. I promise."

"I can hear people's thoughts," he blurted, looking me square in the eye. He was definitely looking for a reaction, and I willed myself not to give him one. He searched my face for another moment before explaining. "I can hear everything that people are thinking. I can see images and read thoughts. Needless to say, it has given me a distaste for the bulk of humanity. Really, for all so-called rational beings."

"So… can you…"

"I can't hear you, Bella. Your mind is closed to me."

We looked at each other.

He can't hear me.

Do I believe that?

Yes.

Why?

I'm not sure.

It explains a lot. It explains his frustration. It explains the look he gets when I pause before answering. It even does a bit to explain why he's so worried about me all the time. If he can't hear me, he doesn't know if I'm in pain or unhappy or upset.

He can't hear me.

Wait…

"Why can't you hear me?"

"I'm not sure. It's never happened before. I have been able to know the mind of every vampire and human I've come in contact with. But I have no access to yours. It's frustrating. And enchanting. I've never gotten to just get to know someone before. And the peace when I'm around you, Bella. You have no idea what that's like."

"So you hear people all the time?"

"I try to shut things out. My family, for instance… I do my best to give them privacy. And my gift is especially useful in protecting us. If anyone becomes suspicious of… what we are… we can know about it immediately. It's handy."

"But… is there something wrong with my mind? Is there something wrong with me?"

He stared at me and I blushed. Yeah… that was stupid. He tells me he can read minds and I ask if there's something wrong with _me_.

"What I mean is… if you can hear everyone else… I just don't get it," I sighed. "I don't understand why _I_ would be different."

"Bella, you _are_ different. And it's _wonderful_. You have no idea how amazing you are. How apart from the crowd you stand. You think differently than other people. You put the happiness of others first. Do you know how _rare_ that is? You're intelligent and funny and remarkably self-possessed. You're the most astonishing person I've ever come across. And, no, I can't hear your mind, but do you want me to be able to? That first day in the lunchroom, I listened for your thoughts when Jessica told you about us. I listened for your reaction. And when I couldn't hear you, I was angry, I was confused. It had never happened before. And then you were in biology. You were there, and…"

"Biology," I said quietly, remembering that day with a shudder. I looked long and hard at him, trying to erase the memory of those hate-filled eyes with the gentle, loving eyes in front of me. The corners of his lips turned down, and his eyes narrowed. He clearly knew exactly what I was thinking about.

"Bella, that day… that is the part I need to explain. That is what you need to know…"

He dropped his eyes from mine, releasing my hand as well. He was uncomfortable, and that was not a good sign. I didn't want him shutting down again. We had come so far…

I leaned towards him, shifting my weight forward towards his perch on the end of my bed. He saw me coming, but made no attempt to halt my progress, so I took that as permission to continue. Gently, I placed my hands on his forearms, his icy skin chilling my palms through his sweater. He sighed quietly, leaning in to my touch, his body relaxing, and I moved my head towards his, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before drawing back to look him in the eye.

"Edward, whatever you have to say, I want you to say it. Say it and you'll feel better. Say it and _I_'_ll _feel better. Just tell me and it will all be over. And no matter what it is, I'll sit here and listen to you. I won't yell and I won't run away. I promise."

"I don't deserve you," he said quietly, resting his head on my shoulder.

I wrapped my arms around him protectively, startled not only by his stark vulnerability but also by my fierce instinct to protect him.

"Let me be the judge of that," I replied, turning my head to place a kiss on his temple before pulling back slightly so I could look at him again. "Now, what is it you'd like to tell me?"

"Bella," he began, "when I say you're different, I don't just mean your mind."

I looked at him patiently, waiting for him to continue.

"Everything about you… your scent… your blood…," he gently took both my hands in his own before continuing, "Bella, your blood calls to me. Your scent affects me in a way that nothing else has before. When you walked into that classroom, and I truly smelled you for the first time… Bella, I wanted to kill you."

He looked ashamed and miserable and defeated, and I resisted the urge to hug him again.

His words really didn't shock me, and that sort of bothered me. The way he had looked at me that first day, I had known something was wrong. The fact that he had been moments away from killing me wasn't entirely surprising. And the bottom line was that he _hadn_'_t_ killed me. He had fought it.

So, no… I wasn't shocked. But I should have been. I was a bit angry with myself for _not _being shocked. But then, Edward was right. I _was_ different. I didn't react to things like most people, and maybe that was a good thing. Maybe that was something I should be proud of.

"I pictured it in my head," he continued, "luring you out of the classroom. What I would say to get you to come with me, how you would look as I approached you, how you would taste… I'm so sorry, Bella. You brought out a very primal side of my nature, a side of myself that I have never seen or experienced before. I have never wanted a human's blood so badly. I have never wanted _anything_ so badly. If I had killed you, I would have destroyed my family. We would have had to pick up and move and start over. If I had killed you, I would have failed them. They've been there for me for so long, they've been so supportive… I was better than that. I _am_ better than that. I don't hunt humans. But your _scent_. It terrified me. I thought you were sent here to destroy me, to ruin my life. I hated you. I'm so sorry."

"So you left?" I asked, nodding. Everything was starting to make sense now. As much sense as it could have, anyway.

"I tried to get some distance between us, to move to another class. I thought that if I didn't have to be so close to you on a daily basis that I could deal with it. But there was nothing else available to me, and then you came into that office, and I smelled you _again_ and it was all I could do not to kill you then and there. I ran. I went straight to Carlisle and told him what happened, and then I just drove."

"Where did you go?"

"To Alaska. We have family there."

"Family?"

"Well, another coven of vampires. They're vegetarians like us. They don't kill humans. They live off of animal blood."

"Vegetarians," I repeated, giggling.

"Yeah," he shrugged, smiling. "It's a fairly accurate term for what we are."

It was nice to see him smile again.

"You came back, though."

"Yes, I did."

"Why?"

He thought for a moment before answering, brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes and tucking it behind my ear.

Damn do I love it when he does stuff like that.

"There were a lot of reasons," he mused. "I didn't like the idea of being defeated, for one. I didn't like the idea of running from my problems. And from a safe distance, I didn't believe that anyone could smell so good as to threaten my willpower. But mostly… I was miserable. All I did was mope around. It drove Tanya insane. And I decided that, no matter what happened, I had to deal with the problem head on. Nothing was being solved by avoiding it. So I came back."

I bristled at the mention of a female name. Tanya. Who was that? I decided now was not the time to press it, though. Later. I could wait till later.

"You came back," I repeated, smiling, freeing one of my hands so I could run my fingers through his hair.

"Bella, you're… you're alright? You're alright with this?" his voice was uncertain, his expression confused. I understood why. He had admitted to wanting to kill me. He had admitted to returning to Forks and dealing with 'no matter what happened.' I took that to mean that he had resigned himself to the fact that I might have had to die.

Am I alright?

Yeah, I'm pretty OK. Again, it really bugs me that I'm OK, but I'm OK nonetheless.

He hadn't known me then. He couldn't read my mind like he could everyone else's. And if I smelled so damn special to him, if I had triggered the monster side of him, of course he would want to kill me. I remembered the way he had looked at me, remembered his posture at the lab table, his behavior in the office after school. Edward was a good person. And I had brought out the worst in him. I had tortured him…

"You can't change what you are, Edward. You can only control _who_ you are. And who you are is amazing. I'm not going to say it doesn't bother me, because it does. That side of you scares me. But you controlled it. You fought against it. Not once but three times. In biology, in the office, and again in the woods. You fought and you won, and so I can't look at you as the boy who wanted to kill me. Because that's not who you are."

He looked at me for a moment, his eyes searching my face, waiting for me to take it all back, to yell at him and curse at him and call him a monster. It didn't happen. And suddenly his arms were around me and I was pulled into his lap, my body crushed against his chest.

I snaked my hands behind his back and fisted his sweater, trying to draw myself closer to him. He had been honest with me. He had revealed one of the darker parts of his nature to me. The rest would come later. I would understand later. We would discuss the ramifications of his words later. Now, I just had to show him my gratitude. I still wasn't ready to tell him I loved him yet, but I was more than willing to show him.

I buried my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply as his scent washed over me. I was glad I smelled good to him, because he smelled amazing to me. Slowly and deliberately, I relaxed my left hand on his back, sliding it around to the front of his torso before placing it flat against his shoulder. I licked my lips and looked up at him warningly, before leaning forward again and placing a gentle kiss on his collar bone, right where his sweater met his skin.

His hug became tighter at the contact, and he moaned softly, letting his head roll back and angling his neck closer to my eager lips. I kissed him again. And again. And again. Trailing small, wet kisses along his icy skin, gently pulling away the fabric of his shirt where it got in my way, until I had successfully traced every inch of his neck with my lips.

I gazed up at him again, and he looked at me adoringly, tilting my chin up towards his beautiful face.

"Bella," he whispered, "we need to go slow. I need you to understand that."

"I understand," I breathed, craning my neck to get closer to his lips.

He looked into my eyes a moment longer before nodding once and crushing his lips against mine.

Edward Cullen kissed me, and I was home.

**A/N: Hope that didn't suck. Please review. It's been a rough week. I really, really, really need some encouragement.**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** **I am so totally writing this at work right now. : )**

**Thank you so, so, so, so much for the amazingly, heartbreakingly wonderful reviews, guys. Seriously… I don't think anyone's ever been so nice to me before. It made me super-eager to update, too, so job well done. **

**I'm just going to jump into it. I don't own Twilight or its characters… but I do own a rather extensive DVD collection and a wide range of Ikea home furnishings… so there's that.**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Edward Cullen.

I laid next to him in my bed, staring off into space and thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. Last night, and yesterday… really, every day since I had met this boy has been an adventure.

Damn was that boy a roller-coaster ride.

We kept going from highs to lows and back again… up and down, back and forth, over and over. No two days were the same, no two conversations were similar, and for some reason I loved it.

My whole life had been relatively even, relatively vanilla. Renee had been a definite handful, but she had been my only real variable. My friends in Phoenix had all been pretty standard. Standard conversations, standard slumber parties, standard trips to the mall and mid-afternoon movies. Boys had been standard, too. Dinners, movies, holding hands in the hall between classes, akward goodnight kisses.

When I moved to Forks, my life was flipped upside down, and there was a rather large part of me that applauded the upset. All of the drama, the panic, the frustration, the excitement… it made life so much more interesting. I felt like I was actually _living_ now, rather than eeking by, hoping not to be noticed. And I had Edward to thank.

Our talk yesterday had been intense. We'd made a nice pattern of talking, then kissing, then talking, then kissing. We even talked _while_ kissing on occasion. I had never enjoyed kissing so much in my life. I had never enjoyed just _being_ with someone in my life. Even when we were miserable, even when I was furious with him, I always felt better in his presence. It was as though he had been designed for me, and I for him. It was amazing.

And it was unsettling.

I am 17-years-old. I'm a junior in high school. I am not ready to be in love.

From the moment he told me how he felt, I knew I was in trouble. Unrequited love is one thing. It's so much easier to be in love with someone who doesn't love you back. The gravity of that reciprocation is what kills relationships. When you love someone who loves you back, well, it's scary.

Don't get me wrong. The fact that he reciprocates is amazing. It's incredible. He is the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on, and I would never in a million years have imagined that someone as astounding as him would ever say those words to me. I feel honored and blessed and lucky and gracious. But it's still scary as hell.

I've been in "relationships" before. I've even had boys profess love for me before. But none of it was serious. I mean, it's high school. How serious can you get?

I always just thought of boys as convenient distractions. If I thought one was nice, I went out with him, and when it stopped being nice for me, we broke up. That was the end. It was more semantics than anything else. More a matter of classification than a state of being. I had "dated" and been "an item" and paired off, but I had never felt attached to the other person. As akward as things had been with Mike, I still probably would've gone out with him a few more times. At least, that's what the old Bella would've done. New Bella was an entirely different story.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Edward Cullen has ruined me for all other men.

Now that I know how things can feel, I know that I can never go back. No more uncomfortable hand holding and tepid kisses. No more tolerating the presence of another. No more fake smiles and faker laughs. I'll never be able to do that again.

Kissing Edward is a religious experience. The way his lips feel against mine, the way electricity zings through my entire body just by touching him. The sounds he makes when he feels good. It's addictive. He's addictive. He's my personal brand of heroin. I'll never want anyone more. I'll never be satisfied with anyone but him. I am so totally fucked.

"Bella," I heard a soft voice say, pulling me away from my thoughts.

I turned my head towards the source of the noise, towards the beautiful boy who was lying next to me, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. We had laid like this all night, talking quietly and reveling in the feeling of being together. But it was morning now and time to go to school, and I was suddenly terrified that this closeness would disappear when we returned to our normal routines.

Edward saw the fear in my eyes and smiled at me reassuringly.

"Bella, love, I'm going to run home and get changed," he said softly, kissing the tip of my nose before beginning to withdraw his arms from me. My body tensed when he wasn't touching me anymore, and he kissed me again before standing and walking to my window. "Get dressed, Bella. You'll need to leave soon."

One last smile and he vanished.

I felt the loss immediately, and cursed myself for becoming so attached to him so quickly. Still, he was right. I only had about 30 minutes before I had to leave. I sighed heavily before swinging myself out of bed and going about my morning routine.

I opted out of a shower given the late hour and yanked my hair into a pony tail, smoothing it down with some water from the sink to try and tame the frizz that had emerged as penance for Edward running his hands through my hair so much yesterday. I shrugged on a long-sleeve t-shirt and some jeans and hobbled downstairs to find that Charlie'd already left. This was not a good sign. I was definitely running late.

I was pulling on my jacket and halfway down the lawn in front of the house when I saw him. He was leaning on his Volvo, smiling at me in a way that should be illegal in most states. His hair was damp, his clothes were immaculate, and his eyes shone with happiness in spite of the dull grey of the morning. He was perfect. And I looked like hell. What a bastard.

"I was wondering if you'd like to ride with me today," Edward said, grinning like a fool. I wasn't used to seeing him this happy, and I decided to make it my mission to keep him this way.

I shrugged noncommitally as I altered my path, walking towards his car now. I was ecstatic that he was here, enthralled to see him so soon, but there was no way in hell I was going to let him know that. The boy had enough control over me already.

"Good morning, Ms. Swan," he murmered, leaning down to kiss my cheek. "And how was your weekend?"

"Eh," I shrugged again, following him around his car and dropping ungracefully into the passenger seat as he opened the door for me. "Not great. Nothing major happened."

His smile faltered and I felt guilty. He hadn't gotten the joke. He closed the door before I had a chance to say anything, and was in the driver's seat within seconds.

"Edward," I said gently, reaching over the center console to take his hand in mine, "if this is going to work between us, you're going to have to develop a sense of humor."

He looked at me for a moment before leaning towards me slowly, his lips parted, his eyes locked on my face.

"Bella," he breathed, in a voice too sexy to be allowed.

"Y-yes?" I stammered, willing my body to calm down, trying to force my hormones to behave.

"If this is going to work between us," he continued, taking my face between his hands and leaning closer still, "you're going to have to learn to be funny."

His face split into the widest grin I'd ever seen, and he leaned back, gripping the steering wheel and laughing at what had to be a look of pure frustration on my face.

"You are such an ass," I muttered, smacking his arm lightly as he pulled out of my driveway and into the road. He smiled wider, reaching over to hold my hand and humming to himself as he drove.

In what felt like moments, we were pulling into the school parking lot and parked in his usual space.

And then panic set in.

We were at school.

And we were a we now.

Wait… were we?

We hadn't discussed this.

I hadn't thought about it until just now.

We should have talked about this.

All that wasted time last night, talking about favorite songs and childhood aspirations… we should have taken the time to talk about what would happen today.

Fuck.

I sat frozen in the passenger seat, watching the students mill around the parking lot, walking reluctantly towards the school. Suddenly, dropping out of Forks High and convincing Charlie to homeschool me was very attractive.

I looked desperately at Edward, willing him to suggest we skip school or move to Australia. He just smiled knowingly at me before getting out of his car and walking around to open my door for me. It was funny how quickly I had gotten used to his speed when we were alone, because seeing him walk at human speed was somewhat unsettling.

Too soon, my door was open, and a pair of cool hands were helping me out of the car and wrapping themselves around my waist.

"Are you ready, love?" Edward murmered in my ear, pulling me close to him for a quick hug before taking a step back and surveying the people around us.

Needless to say, there was staring. A lot of staring.

My face went from ivory to pink to red in record time, while the adonis in front of me just smiled, reaching down to grab my bookbag and throwing it over his shoulder as he began walking with me to my first class.

"Just breathe, Bella. In and out. It's not that bad. You'll be fine."

He kept up the chant all the way to the doorway of my classroom, and stood with me outside for a moment, leaning against the wall and pushing a lock of hair from my face.

"Edward… what do I… people are going to ask questions. What do I say?"

"Say whatever you want, love."

"But, I mean… can you hear them? What they're… you know…" I didn't want to talk about his special 'gift' in front of the throng that was lingering a bit too closely to us in the hallway. He nodded at me, his lips turning up into a smirk. He was enjoying this too much. "So…?"

"Newton will not be talking to you this morning. He's fixated on what happened over the weekend. And he's lucky I don't walk into that classroom right now and break a desk over his skull for what could've happened to you…" his whisper went from calm to seething and I gently pulled his hand into mine hoping it would calm him down. It did. "Thank you. Anyway, Eric won't say anything either. You're safe for now. Be afraid of Jessica, though. She's going to interrogate you the first chance she gets."

"What will she ask?"

"Oh, no," he chuckled, shaking his head. "That's too much fun. It's all you."

He bent down to plant a quick kiss on my lips before handing me my backpack and walking away.

Life is so not fair.

**A/N: I know that was a quickie, but my battery's dying and the idea of quitting mid-chapter is troublesome. I'll give you a longer one tomorrow. Scout's honor. Well, it you keep stroking my ego, that is…**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Alright… please refrain from throwing things. I have written and re-written this next chapter twice now and have come to the conclusion that I'd prefer to tighten up the story before continuing. I went back to re-read and am a bit unhappy with some of my plot points, so I'm going to take some time to go back and re-structure a bit before continuing. Now, should I leave the story up in its original form and post the re-write under a different title? Or should I just edit within the existing story? I leave it to your guys. Please review and tell me what you'd prefer. Also, if there's anything you didn't like about the last 21 chapters, please let me know now. I thrive on notes, and would love to be able to address your concerns.**

**I cannot stress this enough, though… please review and give me your thoughts. I'm writing this for you guys, not for me.**

**Thanks for your patience. I promise the story will continue before you know it. : )**

**Alright... the re-write is up at "Eyes Turned Skyward". Some will be verbatim from DandL, some will be totally different. I'm going to keep updating DandL as things come to me, and then refine things in ETS. Please, please, please give ETS a chance, and please review. I know I'm neurotic. lol. Sorry.**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: So, this is what I had written so far that did not piss me off enough to delete. I'm posting it as a peace offering, and to ask you to please give my re-write a shot and a review or two. It is calls "Eyes Turned Skyward" and the first chapter is posted on my profile already. Also, I've started a forum for both stories, and would love to hear what you guys are thinking as I move forward. I'm going to continue updating this story as ideas come, and use "ETS" to refine them, or move in an entirely different direction. Probably the latter. I'm not sure.**

**Anyway, enjoy this brief chapter, sorry for the cliffie, and I'll update soon.**

**Chapter 22**

"So, Bella, how did your _date_ go on Friday?"

I looked sideways at Jessica Stanley, groaning inwardly as I watched her bounce up and down in her seat impatiently. Edward should have told me what she knew already, what she wanted to know, how to get rid of her. But he hadn't. He'd thrown me to the wolves.

"It was fun," I said simply, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. "The movie was kind of stupid, but Mike and I had fun."

"Are you guys dating now?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. She knew. Jessica was the biggest gossip monger in the school. There was no way she _couldn_'_t _have known. I had been witnessed out of Edward Cullen's car this morning, had been walked to every class by him, and he had kissed me more than once in front of hallways full of people. I was so totally fucked.

"Not really," I shrugged, keeping my eyes trained on the clock at the front of the room, trying to will the bell to ring so that class would begin and Jess would be forced to shut up.

"Not really? I thought you guys had fun," she said with mock confusion. She was feigning ignorance. I resisted the urge to reach across the aisle and smack her a couple of times whilst screaming at her to grow up and get the fuck out of everyone else's business.

"We did have fun, but I think we figured out that we work better as friends. You know, we talked about you a little bit. I think Mike might have a thing for you."

I turned to look at her, trying to see if my evasive manouvers had worked. Her expression had changed, her eyes lighting up and her mouth turning up into the most genuine smile I'd ever seen on her face, but it only lasted a moment and she re-directed her focus back to the task at hand. Ruining my day.

"So, are you seeing someone else then, Bella?

"Not really," I replied, making eye contact with her, daring me to ask me what she really wanted to know. She didn't disappoint.

"Isabella fucking Swan, I know you rode to school with Edward Cullen today, and I know you've been making out in the hall together, and I know he walked you to this class. Are you two dating or not?"

The words had tumbled out of her mouth with such speed and force that I was temporarily stunned. She looked annoyed and confused and her eyes narrowed but held my gaze. I really, really wanted to laugh. But I shrugged instead.

"I'm not really sure what you're talking about, Jess. Edward _did_ give me a ride to school today, but I really don't see what the big deal is. I mean, I know you and Lauren drive together sometimes."

"Jesus, Bella, he's a hot guy. That's the difference. I thought we were friends. Why won't you tell me what's going on?" she had gone from bitchy to pleading remarkably quickly.

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

I looked at her.

She opened her mouth to say something else.

The bell rang.

Mr. Vong called the class to order.

I shrugged silently at a furious Jessica Stanley, smiling to myself as she seethed in the desk next to me.

No more talking for a solid fifty minutes.

I win.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

Less than an hour later, the bell rang again, and I hurriedly collected my things, studiously ignoring the Jessica-monster next to me. Not to be deterred, she followed me to the front of the classroom and stood directly in front of me, blocking my path to the door.

"Bella," she began, smiling warmly at me.

Jessica Stanley is a lot of things, but she's definitely not a quitter.

"Bella, I'm just trying to _help_ you. I mean, you should hear the rumors. I don't like it when people talk badly about my friends. I just want to know what's going on so I can _defend_ you. Come on, girl. You can so totally trust me."

She placed her hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, as though underlining her statement.

"Jess, really… Edward and I, we're just…"

"Bella, love. There you are."

Jessica's eyes widened in excitement and she turned slowly towards the familiar voice coming from the doorway. Edward smiled coldly at her before walking purposefully around her and pulling me into his arms.

"I missed you," he breathed, gazing down at my shocked face before dropping a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"Hey," I muttered stupidly into his chest. What _exactly_ was he doing?

"You look hungry, Bella. We should get you fed." He was smiling widely at me now, and, after giving me a final squeeze, he broke our embrace leaving his arm encircling my waist. "Hello, Jessica. Are you going to lunch?" he asked politely.

Jessica's jaw came unhinged and clattered to the floor, rolling somewhere under Mr. Vong's desk and out of sight.

"Ummm… yeah. I mean… yeah."

"That's nice. We can all walk together."

"**Eyes Turned Skyward" go.**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: I'm temporarily stuck with ETS, so I thought I'd update this instead. Please forgive any plot discrepancies and point them out in reviews so that I can amend. I haven't touched this story in a while, nor have I really even thought about it, and, as I'm sitting in math right now not paying attention, I only re-read my last chapter. Still, Edward and Bella are together in this one, and I feel like writing some fluff for once. ETS is a bit too angsty for me right now.**

**Anyway, I don't own this, please don't throw things if it sucks… on with the show.**

**Chapter 23 (but posted under 24 cause I'm not removing the author's note… so really we'll just call it chapter 24)**

"So, Jessica, how are you doing today?" Edward asked, not looking at her as she walked awkwardly beside us towards the cafeteria. This felt ten shades of wrong… just… wrong.

"Ummm…"

"That's good," Edward said smoothly, ignoring her discomfort and running his fingers idly through my hair as we walked. "And how are you, Bella, love? Good class?"

"It was educational," I replied brightly, looking nowhere but his face and stumbling on occasion as we met with seams in the sidewalk and other such impediments on our journey. I didn't care, though. I would've happily walked off a cliff at this point as long as I could keep him next to me on the way down. Fuck. I'm sick. "And how was _your_ class? Learn anything new?"

"How can I learn anything when all I can think about is seeing you again?" he purred, removing his hand from my hair to stroke my cheek, before settling it on the small of my back. Thank god he was holding on to me, because, so help me, my whole body melted for a moment. Fuck. I'm sick.

I shot a glance at Jessica, still walking silently beside us, wondering what she would think of all this, needing a break from Edward's intensity. Her face was almost as red as mine, confusion and annoyance etched in her features. She walked stiffly, a major change from the excessive hip sway she generally employed when she moved. Edward was making her uncomfortable. I silently rejoiced. The bitch had it coming.

We were almost to the cafeteria now. Surely he had had a reason for having her walk with us. Surely he had wanted to do more than verbally make out with me…

"Anyway, Jessica," Edward said suddenly as though continuing a former discussion. His eyes were still trained on my face, but his voice had lost its intimacy. "I thought you might like to know that Bella and I are a couple now. I can't be sure how she feels about me, but I care for her very deeply."

He stopped walking and Jessica and I stopped automatically with him. I emerged from my millionth bout of Edward induced fuzziness that day to notice that we were now standing right outside the broad double doors of the lunchroom. Students were walking (a bit too slowly) around us to get inside, some staring openly, some trying to loiter near us. People wanted to know what was going on. It was like my first day all over again.

Edward leaned down towards me, moving his hand to cup my chin and angle my face towards his. Before I had time to register what was happening, his cold, beautiful, delicious lips were pressed against mine, and suddenly nothing else mattered. There was no one else on the planet. Just me and him and our lips. It was a slow kiss, tender and loving and gentle and… amazing.

I forgot where I was, I forgot who I was. All I knew was I needed more. I eagerly threw my arms around his neck, drawing him closer, darting my tongue out to trace his lower lip. Edward sighed into my mouth, and I was drunk on his scent, his sweet breath clouding my thoughts, sending fire through my body. This was incredible. This was the way life was supposed to be. This was…

Jessica Stanley coughed nervously and we were brought crashing back to reality.

I straightened immediately, embarrassed that I had thrown myself at Edward so inappropriately in public, but Edward seemed unfazed. Really, Edward seemed ecstatically happy about the whole thing. He kissed the top of my head and braided his fingers through mine before reluctantly turning back to Jessica and carrying on as though he hadn't stopped in the middle of a sentiment to make out with me.

"Now, Jessica, do you have any further questions regarding my relationship with Bella?" Edward's tone and demeanor appeared calm and detached, but I could see the threat in his eyes.

Jessica blanched, then blushed again, breaking Edward's gaze and dropping her eyes to the ground, shifting her weight.

"That's what I thought. In the future, Jessica, should you want to know anything about my personal life, or my feelings for Bella, I must insist that you bring your questions directly to me, rather than bothering or upsetting this beautiful creature standing beside me." He paused for a moment, turning to gaze at me adoringly and squeeze my hand before continuing. "Have I made myself clear?"

"Y-yeah. Sure, Edward. No… no problem."

She looked as though she wanted to turn and run as far away from this humiliating situation as possible. Payback's a bitch, honey.

"Excellent. Now, Bella, let's go eat."

**A/N: Shortest chapter ever, I know, but it was fun to write. Hope it worked. I'll update this again when I get the urge, but I think my vacation from ETS has been long enough… I'm craving some angst again.**

**Review, please. Let me know if I screwed up the plot too badly.**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Hey, kids. Thanks to super-beta Hannah for fact checking this against the rest of the story for me. I hope it stands with my plotline, but if something is amiss, please let me know so I can correct it. I've been working on Ch. 15 of ETS as well, just need to tweak and get it edited and you should have it soon. This is, once again, short, but all of my updates for this story are rather one-shot-ish, so that probably shouldn't surprise you by now.**

**In other news… I GRADUATED! Now I just need to get into the program I want for the fall, and my hell can begin all over again. But still… I GRADUATED! **

**This shiz doesn't belong to me… **

**Chapter 25**

"Is all that for me?" I asked Edward, gesturing to the massive amount of food he had loaded his lunch tray with.

"Don't be ridiculous," he replied, flashing me a dazzling smile, "I need to eat too, you know."

I gasped in mock horror and brought my hands to my throat, arranging my face into a melodramatic expression of terror, and regretting the joke instantly as his carefree demeanor melted away before my eyes. Shit.

"Edward," I said quietly, moving closer to him as he paid for the tray of food before stalking away from the lunch line, "it was a joke. A joke, Edward. Please don't be upset. Please—"

"Edward," trilled a bell-like voice behind me, and I immediately spun around out of surprise, though he, I should note, did not.

"Hello, Alice," he replied, still not turning to face his sister.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" she inquired, flashing me an endearing smile and taking a cautious step towards me, seeming to measure my reaction to her proximity.

"Not today, Alice. Not right now."

"Don't be an ass," she replied flippantly, addressing his back as he still hadn't turned around. "I'm Alice," she said, re-directing her attention to me. "It's so wonderful to meet you, Bella."

"It's nice to meet you, too," I stammered, offering her my hand. She regarded it for a moment, smiling softly to herself, nodding, before accepting it without hesitation and taking it gently within her own. Her skin was just as cold and hard as Edward's, but it was to be expected.

"You'll eat lunch with us, of course," she said to me, releasing my hand and bouncing up and down on her heels.

"Alice—"

"Don't be an ass," she repeated, ignoring Edward's protest and lacing her arm through mine, guiding me to the table that I had been so obsessively observing since my first day at Forks High.

Part of me was happy, ecstatic, that Edward's family was alright with me. Wanted to get to know me. Was willing to accept me. It was touching. A much larger part of me, however, was terrified. Did they know that I knew? Did they know everything that had happened between us? Would they like me? Would they think I was worthy of him? Would they—

"Everyone, this is Bella," Alice announced happily, and I looked up to realize that I was standing directly in front of their table. "Bella, this is everyone."

Oh holy hell.

I looked at them and they looked at me. I had observed them from afar many times, but this… up close was entirely different. They were indescribable in their beauty, their perfection. Their skin was as smooth and flawless as Edward's, their features as fine, their eyes as bright in their amber glow. They were… oh holy hell. I don't know if I can handle this.

"Bella," Alice said quietly, her voice hinting at laughter, shaking me gently, bringing me back to the real world, "Bella sit."

"What? Oh… yeah," I replied artlessly, dropping down into the one seat at their table that had always been empty. "It's nice to meet all of you," I added, trying to pull it together.

"You, too, Bella. We've heard a lot about you," replied the biggest one, grinning at me and waggling his eyebrows.

"Emmett," warned a familiar voice beside me, and I turned to find Edward seated next to me. In my mini-breakdown I hadn't heard him sit.

"What?" Emmett asked innocently, grinning more broadly and wrapping his arm around the blonde next to him. "You don't shut up about her."

"Bella Swan, I'd like to introduce you to my family," Edward said to me, ignoring his brother's comment and placing a hand on my thigh, making my face blush and my mind race with rather inappropriate thoughts. "This is Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper, and I believe you've met Alice," he continued, gesturing with his free hand to the rather tense faces around the table.

I examined them each with as much stealth as I could manage, trying to discern their reactions to me. Emmett clearly couldn't have cared less. He seemed like a rather kind soul, in spite of his rather formidable physical stature, and clearly cared about Edward. Rosalie refused to look at me, focusing her attention on her meticulously manicured fingers and audibly sighing on occasion. Jasper was difficult to read. His posture was tense, as though he was expecting something terrible to happen at any moment, and his eyes relayed a mild sense of panic, but when Alice placed her hand in his with an understanding smile, his discomfort seemed to melt away.

"Don't worry, Bella," Alice said cheerily to me from across the table. "We don't bite."

Edward froze, his hand tightening on my thigh, his jaw locking. Indeed, the entire table froze. Everyone glared at Alice, shocked by her comment. But Alice kept her eyes on mine, a faint smile playing across her lips.

Without warning or even realizing I was doing it, I began laughing hysterically, earning more than one incredulous glance from Edward's family.

"Well, at least the kid has a sense of humor," Emmett barked, laughing with me now.

"You have no idea," Edward replied, gazing at me in awe before cupping my face between his hands and leaning forward to kiss me.

"Edward," I stammered uncomfortably once he drew away, still uncertain about his family's feelings about us, "if you kiss me anymore today, people will think I've drugged you or something."

"Ah, but you did," he murmured quietly in my ear, his cool breath sending a delicious shiver down my spine. "You've become my addiction, Bella. And what a marvelous addiction it is."

I blushed furiously, wishing my body would quit reacting to him so readily. Really, it took all my willpower not to jump him then and there. The unbidden image of him and I writhing naked on the round table in front of us popped into my mind, and I pushed back against it furiously.

"Fuck, Edward, get a room," snapped Rosalie, glaring at him in irritation.

"Seriously, man," Emmett agreed, nodding.

Edward merely smirked, drawing my chair closer to his and arranging the tray of food in front of me before leaning back in his seat, his arm draped possessively across my shoulders. There were more than a few minutes of terse silence at the table, and I ate as quickly and discreetly as I could, more than a little off put that I would be the only person at the table doing so. Then again, I reminded myself, I was the only _person_ at the table.

"So, Bella, what do you think of Forks?" Alice chirped, smiling at me.

"It's, ummm… it has its merits, I suppose," I replied, blushing.

"Apparently," she said, nodding towards Edward and smiling more broadly.

"It's just so damn rainy all the time, though," I blurted, trying to keep some sort of conversation going. "I mean, Phoenix was so sunny all the time. It was beautiful. And this—" I stopped myself, realizing that I was bitching about a lack of sun to the wrong people. "I mean…"

"I know what you mean, Bella. I love sunny days, too."

I looked back at Alice, a surprised smile creeping across my face. She gave me an encouraging nod before continuing.

"Edward says you like to read."

"I do. I love it."

"Well, who're some of your favorite authors?"

"Show me yours and I'll show you mine," I joked, feeling the tension that had plagued me since I'd sat down melt away.

This wasn't so bad. They weren't so bad. They were just a family. They were just a family like any other family. I could do this. I could get to know them. I could _like _them. And maybe, I hoped… maybe they could like me, too.

Yes, I decided. They would definitely like me, too.

**A/N: Reviews make amazing grad gifts. Just saying…**


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